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JOLLY GOOD TIMES TO-DAY. 
























































































































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“ What are you drawing, Amy? May I see it? 


1 1 


-> - 
.o- 


Page 






Amy, Kitty, and Rob laden with enormous slabs of stone. 

Page 220. 






Jolly Good Times 


To-day. 


by 



MARY P. WELLS SMITH, 

' V 

AUTHOR OF “JOLLY GOOD TIMES; OR, CHILD-LIFE ON A FARM,” 
“JOLLY GOOD TIMES AT SCHOOL,” “THE BROWNS,” 
“THEIR CANOE TRIP,” “JOLLY GOOD TIMES 
AT HACKMATACK,” “MORE GOOD 
TIMES AT HACKMATACK.” 



ROBERTS BROTHERS. 

1894. 




Copyright , 189 4-, 

By Roberts Brothers. 


(Entocrsttg ^rcss : 

John Wilson and Son, Cambridge, U.S.A. 


TO 


AGNES MARY. 


“ Dear heart, thou earnest with gentle step ; thou hast gone, 
leaving the gentle impress of thy footprints on Earth-land ; from 
whence and whither? We know only out of God’s hand, into God’s 
hand.” Afterglow: Frederic A. Hinckley. 


“ What is excellent, 

As God lives, is permanent ; 

Hearts are dust, hearts’ loves remain ; 

Heart’s love will meet thee again.” 

Threnody : Ralph Waldo Emerson. 


“ For the things which are seen are temporal ; 
which are not seen are eternal.” 


2 Corinthians 


but the things 
iv. 18 : Paul. 


1 
















PREFACE. 


S the title of this book implies, it aims to 



^ ^ depict, not the pleasures enjoyed at Hack- 
matack or elsewhere, fifty years ago, but those 
of the children here and now. Nothing could 
afford a greater contrast, or illustrate more clearly 
the change in manners and habits during the last 
half-century in this country, than the difference 
between the. lives and training of children now 
and then. In a wholly different world from that 
of their grandfathers, are the children of to-day 
growing up. 

We often hear that American children are being 
ruined by indulgence. This is undoubtedly true 
in some cases. But so bright and intelligent, so 
kindly and generous, so readily moved to helpful- 
ness of those less fortunate than themselves, are 
the girls and boys whom it is my good fortune to 
know, that I cannot borrow much trouble about 
the future of our country when theirs, and such 
as theirs, shall be the hands that guide her 


4 


Preface . 


destinies. Their “ jolly ” times are quite as apt 
to be “ good,’’ as their “ good ” times are sure to 
be “jolly.” 

This book was begun to please a child who 
loved it as the chapters went on, and called it 
fondly “ my book.” Before its completion, she 
vanished for a time from our sight into that 
unseen world whose light always shone around 
her ; but still the book is finished, as it was begun, 
for her. 


MARY P. WELLS SMITH. 


Avondale, Cincinnati, Ohio, 
March 20, 1894. 


CONTENTS, 


Chapter Page 

I. Hillside Avenue 7 

IT. “A whole Saturday”: the Forenoon . 19 

III. “A whole Saturday ” : the Afternoon 35 

IV. Clubs 52 

V. A Brightside Meeting 62 

VI. The Hew Neighbor 74 

VII. Hallowe’en 85 

VIII. A Ride on Pegasus 99 

IX. Lost, Strayed, or Stolen 116 

X. Dramatic 126 

XI. Christmas Shopping 136 

XII. Merry Christmas 152 

XIII. “Fun” in the Snow 167 

XIV. A Birthday 185 

XV. Saint Valentine’s Day 198 

XVI. Easter 204 

XVII. The Collection Mania 215 

XVIII. A Trip to the Farm 232 

XIX. Chickens 253 

XX. The Concert 262 

XXI. “Cherries Ripe” 270 



JOLLY GOOD TIMES TO-DAY. 


CHAPTER I. 

HILLSIDE AVENUE. 

“ TV /TAEGEEY HAYWOOD says she thinks Fri- 
1V1 day night is the nicest night in the week,” 
remarked Amy at the dinner-table one Friday night ; 
“ and so do I, too.” 

“ Why so ? ” asked her father. 

“ Because you have a whole Saturday ahead to play 
in. Oh, I do hope it will be a pleasant day to-morrow ! 
I ’m going to bed very early to-night.” 

“ What, and forsake Elizabeth and Jane ? ” asked 
her mother. 

“ Ye-es,” said Amy, a little doubtfully, for she was 
intensely interested in reading “ Pride and Preju- 
dice,” “ though they’re in awful trouble just now, and 
Mr. Collins is so funny. But I must, for I promised 
Kitty I would get up real early to-morrow morning. 
We mean to have lots of fun. You will be sure to 
wake me early, won’t you, mamma ? ” 

Mrs. Strong promised, but her aid was not needed ; 
for the first thing she heard when she woke, Saturday 
morning, was Kitty Clover’s call under Amy’s window. 
Kitty had a private signal for Amy not unlike a loud 
purr. 


8 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


“Pur-r-r,” went Kitty. Then there was the loud, 
animated barking of a dog, and a boy’s voice said, — 

“That’s right, old Duke. Speak up !” 

“ Amy ! Oh, Amy ! Amy Strong ! ” called Kitty, 
when her call brought no response. 

“ What is it ? ” came in rather sleepy tones from 
Amy’s room ; then, more briskly, “ Oh, is it you, 
Kitty ? All right. I ’ll be down right away.” 

There was an unusually brisk flying around in 
Amy’s room, and presently a tap at Mrs. Strong’s 
door. “ Can we have breakfast soon, mamma ? I’m 
in a great hurry.” 

“ I am delighted to hear it,” said her mother ; for 
Amy’s chief fault was a disposition to think that there 
was always “time enough,” and that it was better to 
do things “ by and by,” or “ pretty soon,” or “ in a 
minute,” rather than now. This tendency was made 
worse by Amy’s passion for reading. Once seated 
with a book, and Amy was lost to the outside world ; 
as her mother sometimes said, — 

“ You might almost as well try to pull up a tree, 
roots and all, as move Amy when she is once launched 
in a book.” 

If Mrs. Strong happened to add, “ She is exactly 
like her father,” Professor Strong looked rather 
pleased than otherwise ; for Amy was an unusually 
bright, intelligent child, and the one little daugh- 
ter was the late blooming flower of his old age. 
A wise and learned professor, he had married rather 
late in life a lady much younger than himself, 
whose lively temperament well supplemented his 
own slower, graver nature. Three sons had been 
born to them. One had died in childhood ; the others, 


Hillside Avenue. 


9 


Sydney and Philip, were grown up, married, and 
living, Sydney in Boston, and Philip at present in 
Europe. When the boys were well grown, the Strongs 
had been delighted by the arrival of the much-longed- 
for “ little sister/’ whose coming had been despaired 
of. Had Amy been spoilable, her prospects of being 
spoiled were certainly as fair as child ever had ; for, 
besides being peculiarly precious as an only daughter, 
and the youngest child, bright and precocious men- 
tally, she was delicate and nervous, requiring tenderer 
care and more indulgence than sturdier children. But 
Amy’s nature was gentle, sweet, and reasonable, and 
so she shed all the spoiling. 

On account of her health, the Strongs moved out - 
from the city of Cincinnati to the beautiful hill-top 
suburb of Edgeton. Hillside Avenue, when they 
built on it, had only a few scattered houses, and was 
almost like the real country. The residents kept 
cows who were pastured on the vacant lots, and they, 
the hens and ducks, and the Bonds’ pony, rambled 
about at their own sweet will, sometimes much to the 
annoyance of Mrs. Strong, who was devoted to flower 
culture. There were then few children on the avenue, 
and those of Amy’s age were, unluckily, all boys, so 
that little Amy had no playmates ; but having never 
had them, she did not miss them, being perfectly 
happy in her own inventions. She lived much of 
the time in an imaginary world of her own, called 
“ Our Land,” belonging to her and her doll children, 
and the fairies and brownies. Amy was the Head 
Princess of Our Land, and wonderful events were 
always happening there. This land lay, so Amy 
said, u way, way off in the sky, far beyond heaven.” 


10 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


Amy’s chief servant in Our Land was the Bulusk, 
and her great enemy the Rub-a-dub, the chief of the 
Blue Indians, — a savage tribe with whom Amy and 
her subjects had many conflicts. Terrible fellows were 
the Blue Indians, if one might believe the pictures 
that Amy drew and painted of them. Their com 
plexion was always a deep blue, while their heads 
bristled with red feathers. Once Amy painted the 
Rub-a-dub purple. Philip, who was often admitted 
to the secrets of Our Land, said, — 

“ Why, I thought the old fellow was blue.” 

“ I made him purple to-day,” said Amy, “ because 
he feels purple. The Bulusk and Tree-fox — ” 

“ Tree-fox ? ” said Philip. “ Who ’s he ? ” 

“ Why, did n’t I ever tell you about Tree-fox ? He ’s 
one of my smartest children in Our Land. He and the 
Bulusk have just had a terrible battle with the Blue 
Indians. They drove them back from my palace, and 
they caught the Rub-a-dub and tortured him with the 
Giganter.” 

“ And what is that, may I ask ? ” said Philip. 

“ The Giganter,” said Amy, in the earnest tone of one 
who relates important facts, “ is my chief instrument of 
torture. It is shaped like the thing mamma throws pow- 
der on her plants with, only it is as big as our house.” 

“ I don’t wonder the Rub-a-dub feels purple,” said 
Philip ; “ I should myself.” 

As has been seen, Our Land had a language of its 
own. One day, when there was turkey for dinner, 
Amy surprised the family by observing, — 

How delicious ! it smells like a billy-gogue.” 

“ A what ? ” asked her father, pausing with uplifted 
carving-knife. 

“A billy-gogue; just like synagogue, you know, 


Hillside Avenue. 


11 


only it ’s billy-gogue. It ’s something we have in Our 
Land that ’s very nice.” 

A favorite book was often described as “ perfectly 
billy-gogue-ish.” Anything provoking was “ vexious,” 
anything nice, “luxious.” Amy sometimes said, 
“Though you see me here, I ’m not; I’m really in 
Our Land.” 

When Philip came home in college vacations, he 
was Amy’s best playfellow. He built her a nice 
seat under the big elms, and a still nicer one up high, 
between a little group of three ailanthus-trees, which 
seat was the favorite throne of the Head Princess of 
Our Land, where, far up among the leafy branches, 
she passed many happy hours. . ^ 

In Christmas vacation, he made her a wonderful 
snow-man, and snowballed her, and drew her about 
on her little sled, making a very fast horse, a little 
too lively sometimes, when he purposely tipped her 
off, and Amy, muffled in leggings, wraps, and mittens, 
rolled helplessly about in the snow. He played the 
piano and sang to her, “Oh, dem golden slippers,” 
“Peekabo,” and funny college songs. 

But, best of all, Philip was so kind and patient. 
He would sit at the desk for hours and write down 
Amy’s poems, as the small poetess sat perched in a 
big chair beside him, her short legs swinging in the 
ardor of inspiration, and poured out the “poems.” 
She had confided to Philip her plans for the future. 
“ I am going to be a poetess when I grow up, and 
ride Pegasus, and make him fly higher than he ever 
went before, way up, past the sky ! ” 

Amy would say, “ The name of it, Philip, is ‘ Brooks 
and Bees.’ Have you written that down ? Now write 
this. — 


12 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


“Brooks and Bees. 

“ In the cool daylight and the dark evening light, 

When the sun shines bright and the moon shines bright, 

When the owl comes along with a bird or a fowl, 

In the dark evening dusk when the bells do ring, 

The daylight sings, down below, down below. 

Is it so ? Is it so \ Do you know ? Do you know ? 

That the daylight has come, under sunny skies of snow 1 
Is it so t Is it so ? Do you know 1 Do you know ? " 

Philip always rebelled, and refused to write down 
any more poetry, when it began to run into these 
repetitions, — a sure sign that inspiration was giving 
out. He also rebelled on this poem : — 

“ One, two, three ; 

The winds come from the sea ! ” 

“How that begins nicely, Amy,” said Philip. “ Go 
on, and dictate me a pretty poem.” 

Amy continued : — 

“ One, two, three, four ; 

Roar ! 

One, two, three, four, five ; 

The bees are in the bee-hive.” 

Philip persevered until it came to — 

“ One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight ; 

Set the giant on the gate.” 

“ That ’s enough of that kind of poetry,” said Philip, 
laying down the pencil. 

“That is dibble-dabble poetry,” said Amy, compla- 
cently. “We write it a great deal in Our Land.” 

The following poem Philip thought well of, and so 


Hillside Avenue. 


13 


indeed did Amy, illustrating it with amazing pictures 
of the lovers, the moon, and the frog : — 

“ Down in the shade of an old willow-tree 
The little brook rushes past ; 

And there by the brook two lovers sit, 

Dreaming of future and past. 

The little frogs warble their singular notes, 

And the moon rises over the hill.” 

Sometimes, like older poets, she grappled with deep 
topics, as in this effort : — 

“ Beauty is the nature of life, 

With its enemies doth it strife.” 

A poem that Amy wrote about this time, one night 
when she and her mother, on a trip east, had missed 
connections, and were drearily waiting in the Cleve- 
land station for their car, named the “ Peoria,” was 
justly admired by her family : — 

“ Peoria, Peoria, 

When wilt thou come 
In sight ? 

Peoria, Peoria, 

It ’s getting late 
At night. 

“ Oh, Porter, oh, Porter, 

Won’t you please to make 
My berth 1 

Oh, Porter, oh, Porter, 

For us there is no pleasant • 

Fireside hearth ! ” 


Many of the poems were religious, for Amy’s little 
heart was full of undoubting faith in God and His 


14 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


goodness. When the first snow came, Amy felt moved 
to dictate this poem, in “ blank ” verse : — 

l 

The Softly Falling Snowflakes. 

Snowflakes falling soft and sweet 
Make the air full of fragrance. 

The softly falling snow comes down 
In little snowflakes. Oh, what a pretty sight, 

To see the branches all plumed with snow, 

And the ground covered with its white sheet ! 

The Lord has sent His angel » 

To send a pleasure to His little ones. 

Running, skipping, hopping, jumping, 

All the pleasant voices ringing 
Like music through the street. 

And still the little snowflakes fall 

Pitty-patty on the porch, and on the roofs of the houses. 
Good-by, all the snowflakes. 

Amy’s love of nature shone out, too, in the poems. 
One pleasant spring morning, she dictated a poem 
beginning, — 

“ Flowers as heaven-bells do ring 
These bright and cheerful days.” 

Dull grown-up people might not perceive the fra- 
grance of the snowflakes, or hear the daylight sing, 
or the heaven-bells ring, but Amy’s little heart danced 
to their music all day long. 

But all this was when Amy was much younger. 
She was quite able to write down her own poems 
now, which was fortunate, for Philip was far away. 
After graduating at college, he had married a Miss 
Gladys Van Dyke of New York, a descendant of one 
of the old Dutch families, and, if one might believe 
half that Philip wrote of her, the most charming 


Hillside Avenue. 


15 


creature that ever lucky man was permitted to call his 
own. She had a wonderful soprano voice ; and as 
Philip had a fine baritone voice, and his bent was 
wholly toward music, they had gone abroad to study, 
and Amy had never yet seen the fascinating new 
sister. 

Amy was sent to kindergarten, where she was very 
happy ; but her chief happiness was in a dream world 
of her own. She was always making up fanciful sto- 
ries, and then illustrating them. Table and writing- 
desk in the library were often strewn with pictures 
of fairies, kings and queens, lords and ladies of high 
degree, while an odor of turpentine and gilt paint, 
more strong than agreeable, permeated the house. 
She burrowed in books far beyond her years ; and she 
was growing up pale and slender, palpably spindling 
and pining for want of fresh air and exercise. She 
was apt to have a cough in winter, and was troubled 
with bad dreams and nervous crying spells. Not be- 
ing strong enough to attend school, when too old for 
the kindergarten she studied and recited at home to 
her parents. 

Professor and Mrs. Strong realized that it was not 
well for Amy to live so much alone, and use her too 
active brain so hard ; but how should that busy brain 
be kept more quiet, the slender body built up ? 

“ What book is Amy buried in now ? ” asked the 
professor, as he saw Amy in the library, curled up in 
a big chair, with a large book, lost to all going on 
around her. 

“ Shakespeare,” said- Mrs. Strong. " ‘ The Merchant 
of Venice.’ She says Shylock is the most ‘ vexious ’ 
character she ever knew.” 


16 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


The professor laughed, but said, — 

“ It ’s all wrong. She ought to be playing outdoors. 
It would be a blessing to the child if she could not get 
hold of a book for a year.” 

“ I sometimes think I shall have to adopt a little 
girl expressly to play with Amy,” said Mrs. Strong. 

But now happily the march of progress came to 
Amy’s rescue. An electric road was built to Edgeton, 
which had hitherto been connected with the city only 
by an omnibus line. The three miles to the city be- 
came practically a short quarter of a mile. Syndi- 
cates began to buy up Edgeton land ; new streets were 
opened on every side ; and a real-estate “ boom ” struck 
quiet Hillside Avenue. Handsome modern residences 
sprang up around the Strongs, until their one acre came 
to have quite a park-like effect in the thickly settled 
neighborhood, being the largest open space left on the 
street. To Mrs. Strong’s delight, the lots each side 
of their own were bought by friends of theirs, attend- 
ing the same church. The Clovers bought one side of 
them, the Carmans the other. 

This was all very pleasant, but other phases of the 
change were not by any means so agreeable. For a 
time, Hillside Avenue was torn up from one end to 
the other. On all sides, cellar-holes were being dug, 
great piles of stone, bricks, and lumber cumbered the 
ground, while carts hauling earth, and heavy wagons 
laden with timber, framework, mortar-beds, and what 
not, wore deep ruts in the street by their steady pro- 
cession. The profane notes of the “ bosses ” rang on 
the air from early dawn till six at night; and an army 
of laborers camped regularly every noon on the 
Strongs’ front lawn under the shade of the big trees, 


Hillside Avenue. 


17 


whose lower branches were perpetually ornamented 
with a variety of coats and dinner-baskets, while 
brown papers strewed the grass. 

This transition period was not at all enjoyed by the 
Strongs, who often sighed for the old-time peace and 
country quiet of Hillside Avenue. Hor did they 
enjoy having the street improved by a big sewer, 
which went through the middle of the avenue, throw- 
ing a mountain of earth out on each side. To her 
mother’s horror, Amy was discovered, one summer 
night, in a fresh white frock, walking with some of 
the other children in the bottom of the sewer ditch, 
fifteen feet below the surface, the sloping mounts of 
earth each side rising nearly to the tree branches, 
looking as if but a breath or jar would send them 
sliding down on the children far below. 

When rescued and asked, “ How could you think of 
doing such a thing as that, Amy ? ” she replied, — 

“ I wanted to see how it seemed to be so far down 
in the earth. I never had a chance before to go into 
the earth. It felt warm down there. I think I could 
feel the heat of the earth’s fires striking through. 
You know, mamma, this earth is all a ball of fire 
inside, and where we live is only the eooled-off crust.” 

But this happened after Amy had become ac- 
quainted with Kitty and Bob Clover, and Elliot Car- 
man, her new neighbors. These were by no means 
the only children on the avenue. As the population 
increased, more and more children came to live on 
the avenue, until it fairly swarmed with them, of all 
ages and sizes. Indeed, there were said to be forty- 
four in all, if you counted from the Barrs’ last new 
baby up to the youngest of the four Trimble boys, 
2 


18 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


who was thinking of raising a mustache and entering 
the medical college. There were the three Neales, — 
Eonald, Jack, and Phyllis, — Amy’s little cousins, and 
a most valuable addition to the street, in her opinion ; 
and Professor Dawson’s three, and the four Paxtons, 
and the Goldschmidts’ four, and Victor Dana, and Ben 
Bruce and Paul Williams, and Willie McGrau, and 
the Herndons, and the Barr boys, and “many others.” 
No one ever knew exactly how many Barrs there 
were. The number was supposed to be somewhere 
about seven, and they were always spoken of collec- 
tively as “ the Barr boys.” It is perhaps unnecessary 
to say that “ a whole Saturday ” on Hillside Avenue 
was apt to be a lively day. 

Although Amy still found time to read, draw, and 
dream, she lived so much more active a life than for- 
merly, that she was now able to attend school. So 
she appreciated the freedom of Saturday as much as 
any of the children. Once started at play, no one 
played harder than Amy. She threw her whole soul 
into play, as into all she did. 


U A Whole Saturday ” ; the Forenoon. 19 

CHAPTEE II. 

“ A WHOLE SATURDAY " l THE FORENOON. 

S soon as Amy was dressed, she ran outdoors to 



ijL confer with Kitty and Eob, who were running 
up and down their driveway, playing with their dog 
Duke, an Irish setter, with long, silky, reddish hair, — 
the best-natured, most friendly dog that ever was. 
When she came in, she asked, — 

“Mamma, may I go down to Dr. Taylor's right 
after breakfast, with Kitty and Eob ? " 

“It is rather a long walk for you," said her mother. 
“ Oh, we 're not going to walk ; we 're going on 
our tricycles, and Eob on his bicycle. Eob says 
Bryant Taylor told him yesterday that he has a little 
alligator of his own. His aunt sent it to him from 
Florida. We all want to go down and see it." 

“Oh," said Mrs. Strong, “if there is an alligator in 
the case, it becomes important that you should go 
down, I see. You may go, but do not stay over an 
hour. Dr. Taylor may be finishing his sermon, and 
not care for the noise of so many children." 

“We shall not make any noise," said Amy. “We 
are only going to look at the alligator. It must be 
delightful to have a private alligator of your own." 

The children started soon after breakfast. W T hen 
they came to Mrs. Carman’s, Elliot was out in front 
of the house, trying to attach Comet, his sister’s great 


20 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


St. Bernard dog, as large as a small cow, to his roller- 
coaster, by an ingenious arrangement of the family 
clothes-line. 

Elliot somewhat resembled Amy in being, as the 
only son, who had brought up the rear of a large 
family of girls, a remarkable child, and much petted. 
In other respects, he was a great contrast to her, dis- 
liking books as much as she loved them. The Car- 
mans were a bookish family. The girls had been tine 
scholars, and were young ladies of more than ordi- 
nary literary taste and ability. They often wondered 
what unknown ancestor’s blood could have cropped 
out in Elliot, to make him so loathe the very sight of 
a book. He was a boy of quick observing powers, 
overflowing with activity, full of mechanical ability, 
learned in the habits of animals, easily remembering 
whatever he saw for himself ; but merely put a book 
before him, and he fell into so dense a state of stu- 
pidity that it seemed wilful obstinacy. The whole 
family were sometimes worn out by the struggle to 
worry Elliot’s lessons into his head. 

Elliot saw the procession coming down the avenue, 
and was on the alert at once. 

"Hullo, Rob!” 

“ Hullo!” 

“ Where are you going ? ” 

“ Down to Bryant Taylor’s to see his little alligator.” 

The word “ alligator ” was enough for Elliot. He 
flew into the house, wrung a hasty permission from 
his mother, and was soon making his feet fly, push- 
ing on his bicycle to overtake the other children, who 
had already turned the corner into Grand Avenue. A 
bright-looking little procession it was, as it dashed 


“A Whole Saturday ” : the Forenoon. 21 

merrily on in the October sunshine, the cool, fresh 
morning air and the vigorous exercise bringing a pink 
tinge even to Amy’s cheeks, and making Kitty’s glow 
like a red, red rose. 

Amy, who looked not unlike Alice in Wonderland, 
had long golden hair, light and waving, which she 
usually wore flowing over her shoulders, drawn back 
from her forehead with a round comb, exactly like 
Alice’s. The shining hair flew out on the breeze 
made by their swift motion, like a web of the sun- 
shine itself. Kitty was a brunette, with large brown 
eyes, and thick, dark-brown hair, cut short because 
Kitty had the typhoid fever last summer, but flying 
out in half-curls all around her head. Kitty was 
strong and sturdy, and very fond of play. Kob was 
fond of reading, but Kitty cared little for books. A 
sweet-tempered, loving, happy, healthy child, full of 
vigor and spirits, Mrs. Strong might well feel herself 
fortunate to have secured such a little neighbor and 
playmate for Amy. The two girls were inseparable. 
Each seemed to furnish what the other lacked ; and 
they loved each other all the more because they were 
so different. Kob was a natural, human boy, warm- 
hearted and quick-tempered. 

The children soon turned into Chestnut Street, and 
brought up at Dr. Taylor’s gate. They found Bryant, 
who was a natural worker, always tremendously in 
earnest about something, dressed in a little pair of 
blue overalls, hard at work with a small wheelbarrow, 
wheeling earth from a pile in the street up a plank 
into his father’s yard, assisted by his rosy-cheeked 
little brother, Stanley. At least Stanley evidently 
considered that he was helping. 


22 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


“ Hullo, Bryant ! ” cried the children, as they bore 
down upon him. “ What are you doing ? ” 

“ Filling up mother’s flower-beds,” said Bryant. 

“ And I am helping him,” said Stanley. 

“ Can we see your alligator ? ” 

“ Why, yes, I can stop a little while, I guess,” said 
Bryant, with all the importance of a real business 
man. “ Come into the house.” 

“ Where do you keep him ? ” asked Elliot. 

“He’s up in father’s study now, but father doesn’t 
want him there very much.” 

“ I should think you would make a pond for him in 
the back yard,” said Kitty. “We’ll all help you 
dig it.” 

“Oh, yes,” said Amy, “wouldn’t that be nice? 
You might put rocks around it with vines running 
all over them, and set out little trees and flowers 
around it, and perhaps you could have a waterfall 
splashing into the pond, and it would look so wild 
and tropical to see him in there.” 

“ Pooh ! ” said Elliot ; “ much you girls know about 
alligators. They are used to a hot climate, and they 
have to be kept in the house where it ’s warm.” 

“ Of course they do,” said Bryant, “ in cold weather. 
That ’s why my alligator ’s in father’s study. Mother 
wants me to give him to the Zoo, and perhaps I will, 
when he gets bigger.” 

Dr. Taylor, who was, as Mrs. Strong had foreseen, 
giving the finishing touches to his sermon, was some- 
what surprised to be roused from his absorbing work 
by the invasion of six children, but greeted his little 
parishioners cordially, nevertheless, and they hastened 
to the alligator’s corner of the study. The alligator, 


“A Whole Saturday ” : the Forenoon. 23 

who was about five inches long, was in a tin cracker- 
box filled with water, which stood in a larger wooden 
box. A grand pow-wow of admiration arose from the 
children over his charms. 

Presently Dr. Taylor made this unselfish proposal, — 

“ Bryant,” lie said, “ the sun is shining so brightly 
by the back door, I think you can safely take the 
alligator down there now, and give him a little fresh 
air and sunshine. The children can examine him 
more easily there, too.” 

Accordingly, the alligator was taken outdoors, and 
out of his box upon the grass. Then the boys tried 
experiments on him, to see how he would act. They 
poked him with little sticks and stirred him up ; and 
the alligator opened his great jaws until his whole 
head yawned, snapping angrily about, and lashing his 
tail furiously. 

“What do you think of him, Amy?” asked Mrs. 
Taylor, amused by the expression of Amy’s face, as 
she stood, shrinking back, yet fascinated by the strange 
look of the tropical creature. 

“ I think he is very interesting, but very disagree- 
able,” said Amy, anxious to be, at the same time, 
polite but truthful. 

When the children left for home, they secured 
Bryant’s promise that he would come up to the 
Clovers’ to play as soon as he had finished his job, for 
which his mother was to pay him good wages. 

Elliot went home feeling that his whole future 
happiness depended - on having a little alligator, and 
he beset his mother to order one at once from Florida. 
His mother refused to be enthusiastic about his new 
pet ; his sisters laughed ; and Grandma Gaylord was 
horrified. 


24 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 

“An alligator in this house ! ” she exclaimed. 
“ What won’t that boy want next ? ” 

“I don’t see where you could keep him, Elliot,” 
said his mother. 

“ In the bath-tub. You could take him out when 
you wanted to take a bath.” 

“ And let him gambol about the bath-room, I sup- 
pose,” said Rose. “ How fascinating ! This is better 
than your tame crow.” 

“I do hope, Maria,” said Grandma Gaylord, “that 
for once you will have a little firmness, and not give 
in, as you usually do, if Elliot teases long and hard 
enough. If this house is going to be filled with alli- 
gators, lizards, crocodiles, crows, and snakes, I can’t 
live in it, that’s all.” 

“ I guess one little alligator is n’t going to fill this 
house, grandma,” said Elliot. 

“’Sh, Elliot,” said his mother. 

It must be confessed that there was often a conflict 
between Elliot’s ideas and plans and his grand- 
mother’s. Grandma Gaylord was a large, stately 
old lady, who had travelled, and indeed lived much 
abroad, until within the last few years. She liked 
to have everything about her very nice, not to say 
perfect. She had taken the greatest interest in the 
building of Mrs. Carman’s new house, — had almost 
watched the laying of every board, the driving of 
every nail, to be sure that all was well done and of 
the best. The house had every modern beauty and con- 
venience. The choicest of natural woods formed its 
inside finish, and the floors were polished to the last 
degree. 

Grandma’s chief object in life now was to keep the 


“A Whole Saturday ” : the Forenoon. 25 

house from being marred. When a “ great, tearing 
boy,” to quote Grandma Gaylord, comes dashing into 
the house on pressing private business of his own, 
(another boy waiting outdoors, perhaps, while he 
rushes up to his room, two stairs at a time, to get his 
knife out of his other trousers’ pocket), doors are apt 
to bang, rugs will go sliding along with a fellow, 
making scratches on the slippery floor, and heavy 
shoes jumping down polished stairs sometimes leave 
dents behind. Considerable skill was often required 
on Mrs. Carman’s part, to preserve the peace, make 
Elliot reasonably careful, and keep him respectful 
under what he considered his grandmother’s unreason- 
able criticisms, and at the same time prevent grandma 
from driving Elliot to desperation by her anxiety for 
the preservation of the house. 

Elliot, much to their joy, had told the other chil- 
dren confidently when they parted, — 

« i q n going to have an alligator of my own, right 
away.” 

He now came out into the Clovers’ yard, looking 
disappointed. 

“ Is n’t it a shame ? ” he said, — “I can’t have that 
alligator, after all.” 

“That’s too bad,” cried the children. “Why 
not ? ” 

“ Grandma Gaylord sat right down on him.” 

“ Sat down on an alligator ! ” exclaimed Rob. 

The children all laughed, for Grandma Gaylord 
was a stout lady, and one could well believe that her 
firm down-sitting would be fatal to almost anything. 

“I mean she won’t have him in the house,” said 
Elliot ; “ and she has prejudiced mother against him, 


26 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


so that ’s the end of it. But mother says perhaps she 
will let me have an aquarium. What are you going 
to play ? ” 

“ Keep house, in Kitty’s playhouse,” said Rob. 

“ That ’s no fun,” said Elliot. “ That ’s a girls’ 
play.” 

“Yes, it is fun too,” said Rob; “for Kitty’s going 
to bring out her little stove and cook.” 

The Clover children had a little playhouse in 
their back yard, about six feet by nine, with a 
pointed roof, and a little window in the gable. 
There were shelves across the end opposite the 
window. 

The proposed cooking threw a more favorable light 
on the game to Elliot, and he consented to enter into 
it. 

“You and Elliot must be the hunters, Rob,” said 
Kitty, “ and go and get some game for me to cook.” 

“ I guess Maggie will let me have some potatoes,” 
said Rob. 

Rob was well known to be a favorite with Maggie, 
the Clovers’ cook, so no one was surprised when he 
returned, bringing not only potatoes, but onions, salt, 
pepper, a teacupful of lard, and a small pitcher of 
milk. Amy persuaded her mother’s Bridget to let her 
have half a loaf of bread and some sugar ; while Ben 
Bruce and Paul Williams, who had dropped in and 
been invited to stay and play, went home for eggs. 
Elliot brought over a generous supply of apples and 
grapes, just come up from his father’s farm, and so, 
altogether, there were ample materials for a feast. 

Kitty’s stove was of real iron, with a real stove- 
pipe ; and in it she could make a real lire. As the 


“A Whole Saturday ” : the Forenoon . 27 

playhouse had no chimney, it was found best to 
mount it on a soap-box just outside the playhouse 
door. Rob built a fire in it, and soon real smoke was 
pouring out of the pipe, often in the children’s faces, 
as the wind whisked about. 

“ I am going to bake some of the potatoes, and fry 
some,” said Kitty. 

“ Then I will make a delicious potato-stew,” said 
Amy. 

Amy liked to make a stew, because you could put 
so many things into it. It was much more interest- 
ing than merely frying potatoes. 

“ I tell you, boys, what we ’ll do while the girls are 
cooking the dinner, ” said Ben Bruce, who had a me- 
chanical turn of mind. “ Let ’s build an attic in the 
playhouse.” 

“ Oh, I do wish you would,” said Kitty. “ I should 
like one ever so much.” 

“ I don’t see how you can do it,” said Rob. 

“Easy enough,” said Ben. “We can rest the 
boards on the top shelf on one side, and nail some 
strips under to hold up the other end.” 

“ There ’s lots of boards down in the stable,” said 
Rob, leading the way to a pile of boards, which per- 
haps his father had designed for other uses. He also 
produced the saw, the hammer, and his father’s nail- 
box. 

Rob and Paul industriously sawed and cut, under 
Ben’s directions ; while Ben and Elliot, as head car- 
penters, measured and hammered. Kails were not 
spared ; and the little attic, when done, was found 
very satisfactory by the girls, who were called from 
their cooking to try it. No stairs were necessary, as 


28 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


the attic floor was so low down that they only had 
to reach their elbows up on it, to squirm and wrig- 
gle up. 

“ Dinner is ready now,” announced Kitty. 

Rob, who was up in the attic, squeezed through the 
little window, and leaped to the ground. 

“ See Rob leaping from the burning building,” said 
Paul. 

“That’s a good idea,” said Rob. “After dinner, 
let ’s play have a fire.” 

Every one liked this proposal; but first dinner 
must be eaten. 

“This is potato-soup,” said Amy, finding she had 
put too much milk in the stew. As she, in her anx- 
iety to have it “good,” had also put in too much 
onion, pepper, and salt, and discovering her mistake, 
had tried to remedy it with sugar, although every one 
politely tasted the soup, a little seemed to go far. 

“Won’t you try some of the fried potatoes, Amy?” 
asked Kitty. 

“No, I thank you,” said Amy, who had happened 
to see Duke, attracted by the savory odor, stick his 
nose into the frying-pan when Kitty’s back was 
turned. Duke, who evidently considered himself one 
of the children, was always on hand, in the thickest 
of the fun, whatever it might be. 

As the cooks had only one knife outdoors, they had 
sometimes been obliged to thrust their fingers into the 
lard cup ; and as fingers in and about Cincinnati are 
apt to become very black, especially when they belong 
to children who are enjoying a “ whole Saturday” out- 
doors, the lard in the cup had gradually assumed a 


“ A Whole Saturday ” : the Forenoon . 29 

dusky hue that made all fried articles distasteful to 
the fastidious Amy. 

But the baked potatoes were an immense success, 
broken open, salted, and gnawed from the hand. 
Flaying hard in the keen October air had made 
them very hungry, and all agreed with Elliot when 
he said, — 

“ These hot baked potatoes taste the best of any- 
thing I ever ate in my life.” 

The apples and grapes made a most acceptable des- 
sert, and luckily there were enough for Dixon and 
Claribel Herndon, Van Gooding and Max Gold- 
schmidt, who, having smelt out the fun from afar, now 
came scampering down the Clovers’ driveway to the 
scene of festivities, and were willing to eat even the 
potato-soup. 

The arrival of these reinforcements was fortunate, 
in view of the proposed conflagration. 

“ We shall have enough boys now to get up two fire 
companies,” said Rob. “ My roller-coaster will be the 
Five’s engine, and you go home and get yours, Elliot, 
for the Six’s.” 

“ My bicycle can be the hose-cart,” said Van Good- 
ing. 

“ I ’ll be the chief engineer,” said Max, “ and go 
tearing ahead on my safety.” 

“ I ’d like to see you be the chief engineer ! ” said 
Rob. 

“ Why not, I ’d like to know ? ” said Max, warming 
up. 

“ Because Ben ’s the biggest, and we had it all 
planned for him to be engineer before you came.” 

“ Then I ’m going home,” said Max. 


30 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


But here, luckily, Willie McGrau, and Fred and 
Dick Woodard, and two of the Barr boys rounded 
the corner of the house. The Clovers’ was rather apt 
to be the rallying-place of the Hillside Avenue chil- 
dren of a Saturday ; and when a boy did not know 
what else to do with himself, he dropped into the 
Clovers’ back yard at a venture, to see what might 
be on foot there. 

“ That ’s lucky,” said Bob ; “ we needed more boys 
like everything. The companies will be so large now 
that we can have two chief engineers. Come on, 
boys. Let ’s divide up and begin.” 

The girls entered the doomed house, and scrambled 
up into the little attic ; while the boys, having arranged 
their companies satisfactorily, and wound the Clovers’ 
hose around Van’s bicycle, disappeared around the 
corner and up the driveway, camping under the porte- 
cochere, now converted into an engine-house. 

“We must all go to sleep now,” said Kitty ; and the 
girls curled themselves up on the attic floor. The 
boys also stretched themselves out on the gravel be- 
side their engines, for it was now night, although 
never had the October sun poured a brighter flood 
of golden light through the yellow leaves. 

An unnatural stillness prevailed ; unnatural, that is, 
in the Clovers’ back yard on Saturday. But Duke 
was not deceived. He knew, well enough, that this 
was only the lull before the storm, and lay on the 
grass beside the boys, head and ears up, and mouth 
wide open, ready to leap at their first movement. 

Now the silence was broken by loud screams from 
the playhouse. 

“ Fire ! Fire ! Our house is on fire ! ” 


“A Whole Saturday ” : the Forenoon . 31 

“ Ding, ding ! Ding, ding ! Ding ! Ding ! Ding ! ” 
shouted Eob. “ Corner of Elm and Twelfth ! Must 
be Music Hall h” 

Eoller-coasters, bicycles, safeties, and boys came 
racing at breakneck speed down the driveway, mak- 
ing the gravel fly, — the boys shouting, Duke leading 
the race, barking his loudest ; while the girls, their 
heads out of the attic window, screamed at the top of 
their voices, really excited by their own noise and 
make-believe danger. The hose-cart rushed to the fire- 
plug ; and the hose was attached and hauled over the 
grass in a lively manner by the active firemen. 

“ Play the stairs are on fire, and you can’t get out 
until we rescue you,” shouted Ben. 

“ All right,” cried the girls. “Help! Help! We 
can’t get out ! We are smothering ! ” 

Eob had a small ladder that he had made himself. 

“ To the rescue, men ! Save the women ! ” shouted 
Max. 

Eob’s ladder was placed against the playhouse, and 
the boys swarmed up it, succeeding in hauling the 
girls out of the attic window upon the roof, the excite- 
ment being increased by the giving way of the attic 
floor just at the crisis, which made it “ seem all the 
more real,” Amy said. 

The hose, in the hands of Van and Elliot, began to 
play freely on the burning building. Although the 
boys did not mean to throw water on the girls, — at 
least, they said they did n’t, — somehow the girls 
were considerably sprinkled, and their screams were 
now in good earnest. 

“ Stop throwing water on us, Elliot Carman ! ” cried 


32 Jolly Good Times To-Day, 

Kitty. “ I ’ll go right over and tell your mother if 
you don’t.” 

“I wish you would stop, Van Gooding,” said Amy. 
“ My stockings are all wet ; and you will spoil our 
hats.” 

Dixon dropped off the rear of the playhouse and 
scrambled for home as fast as his legs could carry 
him ; while his sister Claribel, a little girl of seven, 
began to cry, and said, — 

“ Let me get down ! I want to go home. I don’t 
want to play this any more.” 

“Can’t help it,” said Van, who was a rough boy. 
“ This fire ’s got to be put out, anyway. Fire ! 
Fire ! ” 

The commotion now drew Mrs. Strong to the win- 
dow to see the cause of such a noise. She was 
amazed to see Amy and the other girls on top of the 
playhouse roof, surrounded by a howling mob of boys, 
while Van Gooding was throwing a smart stream of 
water, now on Duke, now on the house, now on the 
girls and boys. 

“Now you stop that, Van Gooding!” Kob was 
calling. 

“ Who ’s going to mind you, Kob Clover, I *d like to 
know ? ” said Van, letting a stream of water into 
Kob’s face. 

“ See here,” said Rob, scrambling, dripping, down 
the ladder, “ whose hose is that, anyway ? You drop 
it now, or I ’ll make you.” 

“ Let ’s see you make me,” said Van. 

Kob was a natural fighter, prompt to avenge his 
injuries. He was good-natured and kind, but it was 
never safe to impose on him to any marked extent. 


“ A Whole Saturday ” : the Forenoon. 


33 


He dived for Van, and blows began to fly fast between 
the angry boys, when Mrs. Strong’s window flew up, 
and she called, — 

“ Amy, come home this instant.” 

Mrs. Clover’s window also opened, and her voice 
was heard above the uproar. At the same time the 
noon reveille began to sound up and down the ave- 
nue. The mothers of Hillside Avenue had various 
devices for summoning their children when playing 
away from home. Mrs. Strong rang a large dinner- 
bell with all the energy of her nature ; the Clovers 
sounded a gong ; Mrs. Carman tinkled a silver tea-bell ; 
Mrs. Goldschmidt blew a toy trumpet ; Mrs. McGrau 
and Mrs. Boyd sounded a watchman’s whistle; while 
Mrs. Herndon and Mrs. Stevens usually called their 
children with a rising and falling accent, like the 
exercises in the front of the readers, — “ Claribel ! 
Claribel ! ” “ Oscar ! Oscar ! ” Mrs. Barr sent what- 
ever boy happened to be around in pursuit of the 
other boys ; and he usually stood in the middle of the 
avenue and “ hollered ” until he heard an answering 
halloo. Nurse Nannie trotted up and down the 
street, asking every one, “ Have you seen Victor ? ” if, 
by any chance, she had lost sight of the boy. 

A stranger who happened to be on Hillside Avenue 
at noon or night would naturally have been amazed 
when all the bells began to ring, the whistles and trum- 
pets to blow ; but if a reasonable stranger, he would 
realize that forty-four children are not to be corralled 
in their respective folds without some effort. 

The children now scattered to their own homes and 
luncheons. 

“I really do not know what to- do,” said Mrs. 

3 


34 


Jolly Good Times To-Day . 


Strong to her husband. “ It is n’t the thing for our 
Amy to be playing with such a lot of rough boys. I 
do not like it. I wish she and Kitty could play by 
themselves. But Mrs. Clover naturally wants Rob 
to play with his sister, and then all Rob’s friends drop 
in to play with him. My choice seems to lie between 
letting Amy play with the boys when I can’t help it, 
or keeping her shut up in the house.” 

“ The boys on this avenue,” said the professor, “ are 
rough, some of them, but they are not bad boys. 
Amy is naturally so gentle and refined that no amount 
of playing with boys will make her rough or unlady- 
like. Her own instincts would repel her from any- 
thing wrong; and her health, her very life, depend 
on plenty of active, outdoor play. Such a morning 
as this in the fresh air is almost enough to cancel the 
doctor’s bill for a whole quarter.” 

Amy’s dress had been badly torn in the “ rescue,” 
and her face and hands were incredibly black ; but the 
dress was a Saturday play-dress, and a little soap and 
water soon restored her usual fairness of complexion. 
Her hair was in a terrible tangle, and Mrs. Strong 
said it must be braided before she went out to play 
again; but she was so bright and fresh and happy, 
and had so good an appetite, and chatted away so mer- 
rily at luncheon, entertaining her father and mother 
by funny stories of the morning’s adventures, that her 
mother was almost reconciled to the rough play. 


“A Whole Saturday” : the Afternoon. 35 


CHAPTER III. 


“a whole Saturday”: the afternoon. 
FTER luncheon, Amy, who, when she had drawn 



none for half a day or so, felt like a starving 
man craving food, fell upon her pencils and drawing- 
block, and curling up in a big chair in the bright 
sunshine streaming through the library bay-window, 
was soon lost in the delights of creative joy. As the 
story grew in her mind, she drew the scenes and char- 
acters, sometimes using colored crayons to enhance 
the effect. 

The quiet world of fancy was doubly fascinating 
after the morning’s noisy play ; and she was hardly glad 
to be aroused by Kitty’s hand on her shoulder, and 
Kitty’s soft cheek rubbed against hers, as Kitty’s 
pleasant voice said, — 

“ What are you drawing, Amy ? May I see it ?” 

“ Oh, it ’s just a story I ’m making up, about a prin- 
cess and a witch and a cruel king and wicked queen. 
The princess became a martyr in the end. It ’s a long 
story, and a good deal mixed up, and I can’t tell it all 
to you now. This I am drawing now is the scene 
where the wicked queen persuades the king to order 
the poor martyr executed.” 

This was a thrilling scene. The wicked queen was 
pointing sternly, goading on the executioner, a mon- 
ster of ugliness, whose huge axe was just raised over 


36 


Jolly Good Times To-Day . 


the head of a gentle, lovely creature, labelled in Amy’s 
handwriting, “The Marter.” The spectators were 
weeping bitterly. 

When Kitty had sufficiently admired this picture, 
Amy showed her another of “The Witch Weirdly 
Chanting.” 

“Do you see the yellow birds flying around her 
head,” said Amy, “ and her black cat ? ” 

“ Oh, is that a cat ? ” asked Kitty. “ I thought it 
was a mouse.” 

“ You see,” said Amy, beginning on a new picture, 
“ the witch is at the bottom of all the trouble. It is 
all her doings.” 

Kitty had the greatest admiration for Amy’s stories 
and pictures, especially of an evening or a Sunday 
afternoon ; but Saturday there was too much business 
of importance on hand to waste time on pictures. 

“Don’t draw any more now,” she said. “Come on 
outdoors and play.” 

“ I am not going to play out any more to-day,” said 
Amy, now wedded to her idols. “ Van Gooding is so 
rough.” 

“ Mother told Van he could n’t come over here this 
afternoon to play, because he threw water on us,” said 
Kitty, “ so that ’s all right. Do come, Amy. Leave 
your old drawing. You ’re always drawing or read- 
ing or writing, and it ’s so stupid.” 

Still Amy drew on, unmoved by Kitty’s arguments. 

“Ben Bruce said he would bring his tent over after 
lunch,” said Kitty, “ and we ’re going to have such 
fun, playing camp out down in the hollow.” 

“ Oh, are you ? ” said Amy, waking up, her imagi- 
nation struck by the romance of camping out. “ Well, 


“A Whole Saturday ” : the Afternoon. 37 


I ’ll be over pretty soon, as quick as I finish this story. 
I ’ve only one more scene to draw now, — the martyr’s 
ghost haunting her cruel enemies.” 

Hillside Avenue, as its name implies, ran along the 
ridge of quite a high hill, having commanded a pleasant 
view of the surrounding country until the building of 
so many houses had obstructed the outlook. Most of 
the houses had stables in the rear, and back of the 
stables, the hill sloped rapidly down to a hollow, 
through which a little brook wound under the shade 
of great elms, that had sprung up along the water- 
course in the old days when all was wild, unsettled 
country. Of course the children were fond of playing 
about the brook ; but since the building of so many 
houses, there was a suspicion that the poor little 
brook, through no fault of its own, was little better 
than an open sewer, and wise mothers tried to keep 
their children away from it. The brook wound away 
from the Clovers’ high back fence ; and the hollow 
back of their stable, overhung by the great elms, was 
an ideal place for camping out, it seemed so wild, so 
remote, — all trees, bushes, and long dead grass' ♦, not a 
house to be seen, only the rear of some stables. 

When Amy came out, she found Ben’s tent already 
erected in the fence corner down in the hollow, the 
flag of our country flying proudly on top, and Kitty’s 
cook-stove before its entrance. It looked to Amy 
like Farny’s pictures of wild life on the plains, 
especially as Ben and Bob were pacing up and down 
before the tent, with long wooden guns at their 
shoulders, while Duke followed close at Bob’s heels. 

Mr. Clover, thinking military drill good for boys, 
had bought a dozen wooden guns for Bob. Ben 


38 


Jolly Good Times To-Day . 


Bruce had some knowledge of military tactics, and 
he had formed a military company among the boys of 
the avenue, of which he, as tallest and as knowing the 
most about drill, was captain, while Bob, though 
younger and smaller than many of the boys, was, 
as owner of the guns, unanimously chosen first 
lieutenant. 

“ Oh, how nice this is ! ” exclaimed Amy, as she 
half ran, half slipped down the steep hillside. 
“ What are you playing ? ” 

“ We ’re camping out on the plains, way out by the 
Bocky Mountains,” said Bob. “ The rest of the band 
are off hunting for game. Captain Bruce and I are 
guarding the camp and the women and children. 
There’s lots of Indians 'round, and we may be at- 
tacked any minute. Kitty and Claribel are in the 
tent.” 

The wild cackling of the McGraus’ hens over the 
fence indicated that the hunters were in that direction ; 
and soon Andy, the McGraus’ man, was heard to 
shout, — 

“ Here, you young rascals, what are you chasing 
those hens for ? Don’t let me catch you, that ’s 
all.” 

Elliot, Paul, Max, and three of the Barr boys came 
tumbling over the high board fence, followed by 
chunks of earth, that hit the fence with a “ dull thud.” 

“ The Indians are after them ! ” cried. Captain 
Bruce. “ To the rescue ! ” 

There was much loud banging and chasing about, 
up hill and down, before the enemy were supposed to 
be repulsed, the women, meantime, arming themselves, 
and preparing to make a desperate resistance. 


“ A Whole Saturday” : the Afternoon. 39 

Bryant Taylor now appeared, a valuable reinforce- 
ment. Amy once said to her mother, — 

“ I think Bryant will be a minister when he grows 
up, like his father, he has so much voice.’’ 

Bryant certainly had more voice than his size would 
have led any one to expect; and as he was always 
tremendously in earnest in play as well as work, lie 
let it all out. Judging by the volume of noise, Cap- 
tain Bruce’s forces had been increased at least a third 
by the timely arrival of Bryant. 

“ I ’ll be the Indians,” said Bryant. “ I ’d just as 
soon as not. I think I know how they gave the war- 
whoop. Like this.” 

Bryant gave a tremendous whoop, at the same time 
slapping his mouth with his hand. The effect was 
admired ; but Ben said, — 

“ No ; you ’d best be another soldier, to fill out the 
company. We can make believe the Indians well 
enough.” 

Dixon Herndon was also in camp ; but he did not 
count much, either with the boys or girls, with nejther 
of whom was he playing, in fact. He was playing 
with himself, as was his custom, running up and 
down, scuffling the dead leaves in the hollow with his 
feet, and switching the bushes and tall grass with a 
long stick, being something of his own imagination, 
but no one knew what. 

Dixon was about nine years old, an odd child, 
unlike other boys. His mother wrote books; and 
the general feeling on the avenue was that Dixon 
showed unmistakable symptoms of being a poet, one 
of these days, or, as Mrs. Kaiser put it, — 

“ Dixon will be a poet when he grows up, I guess ; 
he ’ll never be good for anything else.” 


40 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


Claribel, a sturdy, rosy little girl of seven, as prac- 
tical as Dixon was dreamy and visionary, was only 
too happy to figure as Kitty’s little girl, and was 
patiently put to bed and pulled out again at frequent 
intervals, as the emergencies of the play required. 
Beds had been made out of boards, with the girls’ 
waterproofs laid over them. 

“ I wish I had some children,” said Amy. 

“ Perhaps Dixon will be your little boy,” suggested 
Kitty. 

“ Humph, Dixon ! ” said Amy. “I couldn’t do any- 
thing with Dixon. One day, when I wanted him for 
my child, he would n’t be it. He said he was a giraffe, 
and ran around nibbling the tops of the bushes ! Oh, 
how fortunate ! Here come Donald and Jack and 
Phyllis ! ” 

“Amy,” said Ronald, standing at the top of the 
hill, “ mamma said we could come over and play with 
you till five o’clock ! ” 

“ I ’m ever so glad,” said Amy. “ Wait a minute, 
and I. ’ll come and help you down the hill.” 

“Pooh ! I don’t want any help,” said Ronald, proudly. 
“ I ’m not a baby. I can come down easy enough.” 

“So can I,” said roguish Jack. “I can roll down.” 

Jack lay down, and rolled down the steep hill, his 
pretty gray suit bristling all over with beggar lice, 
burrs, and dead leaves when he reached the bottom. 
But Phyllis was glad to wait till Amy had climbed up 
to her, and, taking her by the hand, tenderly helped 
her little cousin down to the tent. 

Ronald was nine years old, Jack seven, Phyllis 
five. They were all handsome children of the dark- 
eyed type ; aud their mother, Mrs. Neale, — “ Cousin 


“ A Whole Saturday” : the Afternoon, 41 


Elizabeth,” — a lady of marked artistic taste, always 
dressed them in a style to enhance their picturesque- 
ness. 

“ Mrs. Neale’s children all look like little Byrons,” 
said Mrs. Clover once. 

When they went east in summer to the seashore, 
artists were sure to fall afoul of them, and insist on 
sketching and painting them, much to the annoy- 
ance of the boys, who felt their picturesqueness a bore. 
Little Phyllis, who looked like a picture right out of a 
sweet, old-time story-book, in spite of all the admira- 
tion openly lavished upon her by injudicious callers 
of her mother’s, was still as unconscious as a rose 
blooming on its stem. 

“Now you’ve got so many more children than I, 
Amy,” said Kitty, “ I think you might give me one, 
and then we should be just even. Do let me have 
Phyllis.” 

“No, indeed,” said Amy. “Phyllis is my little 
girl, are n’t you, Phyllis ? ” 

“Yes,” said Phyllis, nodding her curly head decid- 
edly. “ I ’m Amy’s little girl, always.” Phyllis was 
quite used to being quarrelled for by the children, as 
a most precious possession. 

“Then I’ll take Ronald,” said Kitty, “for Jack 
won’t mind me a bit. You ’ll be my boy, won’t you, 
Ronald ? *’ 

Ronald graciously consented, but when Amy said, — 

“Now, Jack, you’ll be real good, won’t you, and 
do just as I tell you?” Jack only answered, with a 
roguish twinkle in his black eyes, and a shake of his 
curly head, like a wild colt, — - 

“ I don’t know. Maybe I will.” 


42 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


Here another reinforcement arrived, in the shape of 
Victor Dana. The older boys now decided that, as they 
were camping out, the proper thing was to build a fire. 
Material was plenty on all sides. Eob brought a rake 
from his stable, and Willie McGrau ran home for an- 
other ; and as they all worked heartily at this agree- 
able task, very soon a huge pile of dead leaves and 
dry brush was collected in the hollow. Eob ran up to 
the laundry for matches. 

“ What are you after now ? ” asked Maggie, from the 
top of the kitchen stairs. 

“Ob, nothing much,” said Eob, feeling it was just 
as well not to mention the matches, with which he 
scampered down into the hollow. 

“ He ’s up to some mischief, I ’ll be bound,” said 
Maggie to herself. 

The leaves and dead branches kindled quickly, 
crackling fiercely as the fire ran through the heap, 
making a splendid blaze. Even Dixon was charmed 
by the fire, and forsaking his own devices, ran about as 
briskly as the others, gathering all the dead branches 
that had blown off the elms in last winter’s storms, 
and piling them on the flames, which mounted higher. 
What might have happened next remains unknown, 
for about this time Mrs. Strong’s vigilant eye de- 
tected thick smoke rising from behind the Clovers’ 
stable, and caught a glimpse of the blaze. 

Mrs. Strong’s favorite horror was the possibility 
of a fire on Hillside Avenue. The fire service of 
Edgeton was as yet imperfect ; and in case of fire, the 
inhabitants had to call in the aid of the city engines. 
The ground was covered with dead leaves, and a brisk 
wind was blowing. If but one stable caught, it was 


“A Whole Saturday” : the Afternoon. 43 


probable that the whole side of the avenue would be 
swept away. 

Mrs. Strong knew that Mrs. Clover had gone into 
the city shopping, and felt that the danger required 
immediate action. Yet as the boys were neither her 
boys nor on her premises, some diplomacy was needed. 
She went over to the brow of the hill, where it was 
some time before she could make herself heard above 
the babel. The children might all have been Indians 
in good earnest, by the grand pow-wow that was going 
on around the camp-fire. 

Mrs. Strong appreciated the picturesqueness of the 
scene, — the golden October afternoon, the swaying, 
overhanging elm-boughs still bearing a few yellow 
leaves, rapidly thinning, as the breeze sent them sail- 
ing down into the hollow and over the fence into the 
brook, the white tent with its bright flag flying in the 
wind, the high blazing fire, and the children dancing 
around it. It seemed a pity to spoil so much fun, but 
it must be. 

“ Boys,” she said, when she had made herself heard 
at last, “ I think that fire very dangerous. With such 
a wind as this, and so many dead leaves about, it may 
spread up the hill and get beyond your control any 
moment. And if a fire is once started on this avenue, 
where there are so many frame houses, it will be a 
terrible thing. I want to ask you, boys, to put it out, 
as a favor to me.” 

A dead silence fell on the boys. It was hard to put 
out their splendid fire; but they knew Mrs. Strong 
was in the right. Presently Rob spoke up cheer- 
fully, — 

“ All right, Mrs. Strong ; we ’ll put it right out.” 


44 


Jolly Good Times To-Day . 


“ Play it ’s a real fire, and get our engines and hose 
to put it out,” said Ben. 

This proposal delighted the boys. Soon there was 
such a scampering and shouting, and rattling of roller- 
coasters and bicycles, and squirting of water, as made 
Amy, remembering her experiences of the morning, 
very willing to mind her mother, and come up out of 
the dangerous hollow, to play on her own grounds. 

Bryant threw himself into the play with so much 
earnestness that his cries of “ Fire ! ” brought Mrs. 
Goldschmidt to her window in alarm, three houses 
away. 

Amy brought her little cousins home with her ; and 
Kitty and the younger children soon followed, both 
because they all loved to be where Amy was, and 
because the older boys had decided to have a military 
drill. 

Amy and her friends first played “ Queen.” One 
reason all the children loved to play with Amy 
was because she invented so many interesting new 
games. 

“ I will be Queen Clementina,” said Amy. “ Phyllis 
is my daughter, the Princess Rosamond ; Kitty is my 
prime minister, and the rest of you must be my 
courtiers.” 

Amy made herself a crown of catalpa-leaves, and 
mounted the throne, — the seat that Philip had made, 
high up in the group of ailanthus-trees. Philip had 
built a wooden cover or canopy over this seat, to pro- 
tect Amy from the hot summer sun, and had also 
made a convenient little ladder for her to ascend to 
her seat. The Princess Rosamond also wore a crown 
of leaves on her dark curls, and sat in much state on 


“A Whole Saturday ” : the Afternoon. 45 


the throne among the tree branches beside the queen, 
her mother. 

Kitty liked being prime minister, because it was 
her duty to see that all the queen’s commands were 
obeyed, and to make the courtiers behave themselves. 
This involved great activity on Kitty’s part, as the 
courtiers were of the liveliest sort, all bent on dis- 
obeying the queen; and the whole kingdom was soon 
in active rebellion. 

Kitty chased the flying courtiers up hill and down 
and over the fence into Mrs. Carman’s back lot. 
Finally, she captured Jack, and brought him back to 
the feet of the queen in triumph. 

“ Throw him in the dungeon,” said Amy, in a stern 
voice ; then, in her natural tone, “ You know, Kitty, 
the prison is the space between the three ailanthus- 
trunks, under this seat.” 

“Now, Jack,” said Kitty, “ it’s a rule of the game 
that you can’t come out, after you’re once fairly 
caught and put in prison. You must stay there.” 

“All right,” said Jack, reaching up to see if he 
could not tickle Phyllis’s ankles. Finding that im- 
possible, he contrived to reach out and push over the 
ladder, just as Queen Clementina was about to come 
down to help her prime minister capture the other 
rebels, thus obliging her to squirm down by the fence 
in a most unqueenly fashion. 

When Amy and Kitty, after a long chase, returned, 
dragging Dixon and Victor, “in chains,” as Amy 
said, they found the prison empty. The other pris- 
oner had flown ! 

“ Do you know where Jack is, Phyllis ? ” asked 
Amy. 


46 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


“ He said I must n’t tell,” said Phyllis, laughing, 
and looking very sly. 

Here a little squeak was heard from above, and 
Jack’s merry face peeped over the edge of the can- 
opy, on top of which he had managed to climb. 

“Now, Jack,” said Amy, “ that’s very wrong. 
You’re obliged to stay in prison.” 

“ I am in it,” said Jack; “this is just the same 
spot, only a little higher up.” And he leaned far 
over and began to tickle Phyllis’s neck with the tip 
of a little switch. 

“ Amy, please make Jack stop,” said Phyllis. 

“ Dear me ! ” said Amy, “ I don’t know what I am 
going to do with such a troublesome lot of courtiers. 
I believe I must order them all executed.” 

But here there was an exciting diversion, in the 
sudden raid of a foreign enemy into Queen Clemen- 
tina’s domain. Prince, Amy’s beloved cat, was peace- 
fully sauntering about. She loved to be outdoors 
with Amy, feeling herself protected then, and free to 
pursue unmolested her cattish pleasures of nibbling 
the grass, lying in wait for birds, rambling and smell- 
ing about generally. I say “she” advisedly. Prince 
had come into the family a tiny kitten, when Amy 
was only four years old. Amy named her “ Prince ; ” 
and the name became too fixed to be changed, even 
after Prince had shown that she was really a princess 
by presenting Amy with a brood of four fine kittens. 

Prince was a beautiful tortoise-shell cat, with a 
pretty white neck and paws, a soft, knowing, loving 
little creature, and she was very dear to Amy. The 
military company, under Captain Bruce, had become 
tired of their evolutions up and down the Clovers’ 


“A Whole Saturday ” ; the Afternoon. 47 

driveway, and began to look about for something to 
vary the exercises. Ben spied Prince sniffing about 
in the long grass on the Strongs’ sloping hillside. 

“ Hallo ! ” he cried ; “ there ’s a ferocious tiger in the 
jungle. At him, my men! Bight about! Fix bayo- 
nets ! Charge ! ” 

Pointing all their guns at poor little Prince, the 
whole company bore down on her with terrific yells, 
Duke joyfully leading the way. Amy screamed, and 
ran to the rescue ; but Prince waited for no one to 
rescue her. She promptly scrambled up the trunk of 
a young maple, where she clung among the branches, 
her hair standing upright, and her tail almost as big 
as her body. 

“ Bang ! Bang ! ” cried the boys, pointing their guns 
at Prince, and pretending to fire a brisk volley. 

“ For shame ! ” cried Amy, “ to persecute a poor 
innocent little cat.” 

“This doesn’t hurt her any,” said Bryant, “because 
we ’re only pretending. Bang ! ” 

“Yes, it does hurt her too,” said Amy, “because it 
frightens her so. I wish you’d all go home. This 
is my kingdom, and I don’t want you here.” 

Here Bridget appeared on the back porch. Bridget 
was the Strongs’ cook, who had lived with them many 
years, and who made their affairs her own. Bridget 
was well known to rule the rear end of the Strongs’ 
dominion with vigor and decision. The boys had 
had more than one encounter with Bridget, and it 
was never Bridget that came off worsted. 

Prince was Bridget’s special care. Though she 
might sometimes, as she herself said, give Prince “a 
lick with the rough side of her tongue,” she suffered 
no one else to wrong her. 


48 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


“ Now, boys,” said Bridget, “ don’t you dare lay a 
hand on that cat. Get right out of here, or it will be 
the worse for you.” 

When this powerful reinforcement arrived, the 
enemy saw that retreat was in order. 

“I say, boys, there’s Fred and Dick Woodard com- 
ing down the street,” cried Ben. “ Let’s make ’em 
prisoners of war. Forward, march! Charge!” And 
with loud whoops, the military company charged out 
into the street, where a lively skirmish took place. 

The Woodards were active boys, well able to hold 
their own in a scrimmage ; and they were promptly 
reinforced by Vaft Gooding and two of the Barr boys, 
who, spying the battle from afar, came rushing up, 
eager for the fray. There was much whooping and 
halloing, and a great cloud of dust kicked up, obscur- 
ing the result of the conflict. Professor Evarts’ win- 
dows commanded the scene of action. Professor 
Evarts had no children of his own, and had lately 
moved to Hillside Avenue, partly to be near his 
brother professors, and partly because it was such a 
retired, quiet spot, favorable to study and meditation. 
This afternoon he was hard at work on a University 
lecture. Although a most kind and pleasant gentle- 
man, even he groaned in spirit, and wondered people 
did not “try to restrain their children a little.” 

When peace had been restored in the queen’s 
dominion, a wail was heard from the throne. 

“ I can’t get down, Amy,” cried little Phyllis. 
“The boys have carried the ladder away.” 

Sure enough, as often happens, while the queen 
was busy repelling invaders, her own subjects had 
improved the opportunity for mischief. The little 


“ A Whole Saturday ” ; the A fternoon. 49 

boys had stolen the ladder, and made off with it, no 
one knew where. 

“Don’t cry, Phyllis,” said Amy. “We will try to 
get you down somehow.” 

“ I ’ll hunt for the boys, and get the ladder back,” 
said Kitty. 

“Oh, good!” said Amy; “here comes Mr. Green.” 

A very tall, large colored man, almost a giant in 
size, was coming down the Strongs’ driveway, with a 
train of three small dogs at his heels. Mr. Green 
was so big and black and strong that a stranger, meet- 
ing him in his rough working-clothes, might have 
been afraid of him as a dangerous character. Such 
stranger would have been surprised to see some 
tender little tot come running out to him, seize him 
by the hand, and insist on tagging him off. He was 
formerly a slave in Kentucky, but when freed by the 
war, came to Cincinnati. He lived in rooms over 
the Boyds’ stable, and not only earned a comfortable 
living, but laid up money in the Building Association, 
by doing all the odd jobs on Hillside Avenue. He 
was very ingenious, and knew how to do a little of 
everything. People could not have lived on Hill- 
side Avenue without Mr. Green. Mrs. Strong once 
made her husband laugh by declaring, — 

“ Mr. Green is the breath of my nostrils.” 

Mr. Green loved children, and always had some 
joke with them as he passed by. Dogs simply clung 
to him. He only owned two of his own, but the 
dogs of the most aristocratic families on the avenue 
deserted their own homes to follow Mr. Green. In 
house-cleaning time, when Mr. Green was by far the 
most important man on the avenue, if Mrs. Strong 
4 


50 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


wanted him in a hurry, she always went out and 
scanned the avenue up and down, until she saw the 
train of dogs patiently lying before some one’s door, 
— a sure sign that Mr. Green was within. When he 
was mowing lawns or making flower-beds, he was 
sure to be assisted not only by his dogs, but by, 
several small children, whose meddling and bothering 
he bore most patiently. 

Amy felt that their troubles were all over now. 

“ What ’s the matter, Rabbit ? ” asked Mr. Green. 
It was one of his jokes, when Amy was little, to call 
her “ Rabbit,” and he still kept it up occasionally. 

Amy told her troubles ; and she and Kitty skipped 
joyfully down to the seat, sure that deliverance had 
come. Mr. Green was so tall and strong that he 
easily reached up into the tree, and taking Phyllis in 
his strong hands, jumped her way out into the air with 
a big swing that landed her on the ground laughing, 
with the tears still wet on her cheeks. 

“Light as a feather!” said Mr. Green. “Now 
where ’s them boys at ? ’Pears to me like I ’d better 
straighten the kinks out o’ them.” 

The boys were now seen peering from behind the 
stable; and Mr. Green gave chase, catching Victor, 
who kicked and laughed and fought until Mr. Green 
was glad* to let him go, saying, — 

“ You ’re a slippery young ’un.” 

Nurse Nannie was now seen toiling up the Strongs’ 
back steps. 

“ Nannie,” said Victor, “ I wish you would n’t al- 
ways be following me everywhere.” 

“Indeed, Master Victor,” replied Nannie, “I’m 
only coming to call on Bridget.” 


f A Whole Saturday ” : the Afternoon. 51 


“Oh, you needn’t pretend,” said Victor. “I know 
you’ve just come to watch me.” 

Which was indeed true, for although Victor was 
a strong, manly boy of nine, poor old Nannie, who 
idolized him, never felt safe if he were out of her 
sight, and greatly annoyed Victor by following him 
about, to watch over him. 

It was now five o’clock, and the little cousins had to 
go home ; and Amy, who began to realize that she was 
tired, gladly went into the house, to have a quiet hour 
before dinner in that delightful, old-fashioned land 
of “Pride and Prejudice,” where lived her friends, 
Elizabeth and Jane and the much-admired Mr. 
Collins. After finishing the book in the evening, 
she drew scenes from it. No one would believe how 
proud Mr. Darcy looked in these sketches, or how 
lovely were Elizabeth and Jane. 


52 


Jolly Good Times To-Day . 


CHAPTER IV. 

CLUBS. 

T HE next day being Sunday, Amy and the Clover 
children walked up to Sunday-school together 
as usual, bearing branches of bright autumn leaves, 
because the superintendent always wanted the Sun- 
day-school room brightened with something of the 
flower kind. They all stayed to church, Amy made 
happy by having Kitty sit in her pew. After dinner 
Amy settled down to a solid feast of reading, Charles 
Kingsley’s “Water Babies” being the book in hand 
now. 

The Strongs and Clovers were agreed in liking a 
quiet, old-fashioned Sunday ; and their children were 
expected to suspend noisy play, and amuse themselves 
in quiet ways that would not disturb the peace of the 
day. Some children on the avenue were allowed to 
play as noisily as usual on Sunday ; but not the 
Clovers and Amy. 

Late in the afternoon, Mrs. Strong roused from her 
own book to the consciousness that Amy had been 
reading too long. 

“Amy,” she said, “you must stop reading, or you 
will have one of your bad headaches to-morrow.” 

Amy came to, as it were, from her deep absorption 
in her book, and asked, as she reluctantly laid it 
down, — 


Clubs. 


53 


“ May I get Kitty and take a walk up and down 
the avenue ? ” 

“Yes; I have no objection,” said her mother, “if 
you simply walk quietly up and down.” 

Rob decided to walk up and down with the girls, 
and of course Duke had to go too, if Rob did. So 
the little group sauntered along under the arches of 
the elms, through which the sun, low down in the 
western sky, shone with a solemn, lingering light ; 
Amy and Kitty with their arms twined around each 
other’s waists, the head with the floating golden hair 
and the brown curly head close together, — for the 
girls were talking over great plans, — while Rob and 
Duke meandered deviously along behind, with many 
stoppings by the way to examine objects of interest. 

Once Duke chased Mrs. Kaiser’s cat up a tree. 
Rob could n’t help it if it was Sunday, and if it was 
Mrs. Kaiser’s cat. 

“ Dogs don’t know the difference,” he thought. 
But he found it hard to explain the matter to Mrs. 
Kaiser’s full satisfaction, and she scolded him as if 
he were to blame. 

Mrs. Kaiser had no children of her own, and she 
seemed to look upon all boys as natural pirates and 
buccaneers, born chiefly to torment her. If a boy as 
much as set his foot on her lawn, she flew at him at 
once, sure that he was bent on mischief. 

Amy took this opportunity to unfold to Kitty an 
important new scheme. Amy was always full of 
large plans and schemes. She had so many ideas 
that she could hardly keep up with them, and was so 
apt to be struck with some new one before finishing 
the work begun under the last bright thought, that 
her mother called her the “Great Unfinisher.” 


54 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


“ Kitty,” she said, “ don’t you think it would be 
lovely for us children to have a club of our own ? ” 

“ What kind of a club ? ” asked Kitty. 

“Oh, just a club, you know. I heard Mrs. Hern- 
don telling mother yesterday that before Ned died, 
he had planned getting up a Brightside Club among 
the children on this street. I don’t know exactly 
what it is, though I have an idea ; but it sounds very 
nice, don’t you think so ? ” 

“ Yes, indeed,” said Kitty. “ Let ’s go into Mrs. 
Herndon’s now and ask her about it.” 

When the two girls were ushered in, Mrs. Herndon 
was sitting in the Sunday twilight, thinking of her 
bright, black-eyed Ned, so full of bounding life, of 
brightness and promise, who, the previous winter, 
had vanished from her sight into the eternal silence. 
She entered into the girls’ plan with interest. She 
told them that the Brightside Club had been a family 
affair. She and her younger sisters had started it 
among themselves in the days when high aspirations 
and limited means brought some trials hard to bear. 

“ When things were particularly dark and trying, 
Sister Nell would say, in her brave, cheery way, ‘A 
good time for a meeting of the Brightside Club, girls ; ’ 
and the Brightside Club helped tide us over many 
hard times. After Nellie married and moved out to 
Montana, her children and mine made us a club of 
just ten. So we worked into it something of the ‘ten 
times one is ten’ spirit. It was a plan that dear Ned 
had much at heart, to start a Brightside Club among 
those children on the avenue with whom he was the 
most intimate ; and it will be very pleasant for me 
to help you if I can, because I shall feel that I am 
doing something for Ned.” 


Clubs . 


55 


Amy and Kitty talked it all over with Mrs. Hern- 
don, and, after getting Mrs. Strong’s consent, lost no 
time in going, then and there, to invite the proposed 
members to meet the following Monday evening in 
the Strongs’ dining-room, to organize. All the chil- 
dren were enthusiastic about the 'new club. 

When Amy came home, full of the new club, Pro- 
fessor Strong laughed. 

“ A chip of the old block,” was all the explanation 
that Mrs. Strong, who was suspicious of his merri- 
ment, could get out of him. 

In truth, Mrs. Strong was a woman of her period, 
president of two clubs, secretary of another, and 
member of two more, so perhaps it was no wonder 
that Amy should take instinctively to clubs. 

There had been a great discussion between Amy 
and Kitty as to who the ten members should be. 

“ Don’t let ’s have any boys in it,” said Amy. 
“ They won’t obey the rules, or do as we say, and 
that will spoil all our fun.” 

“ But I want Rob to belong,” said loyal Kitty, “ or 
else I won’t.” 

“ Oh, of course we ’ll have Rob,” said Amy. “ And 
mother will want me to ask Elliot Carman, I know. 
Then we want Laura Dawson.” 

“ Of course,” said Kitty. “We want her the first 
one.” 

Laura was the only girl of their age on the avenue ; 
but the girls did not see nearly as much of her as 
they wanted, because she lived some distance away, 
at the other end of the avenue, and had younger 
brothers and sisters who absorbed most of her time 
out of school. She, having been found a congenial 


56 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


spirit by Amy, had sometime ago been admitted to 
Our Land, as one of its princesses. 

Mrs. Herndon had said she wanted Dixon and Clari- 
bel to belong to the club. 

“If we have any children of that age,” said Amy, 
“I want Ronald; &nd Ronald will want his great 
friend, Victor.” 

“Yon might as well ask Nannie to join too, then,” 
said Kitty, laughing. 

“ Oh, Nannie will come anyway, without being 
asked, if Victor does,” said Amy. 

Victor Dana lived in the next house to Ronald, and 
was the same age. His beautiful young mother had 
died when Victor was a baby. His father’s sister, 
Miss Grace Dana, kept house and cared for Victor; 
that is, as much as Nannie would let her. Nannie 
had been his mother’s nurse in infancy, and had lived 
ever since in different branches of the family. When 
Victor was born, Nannie had been passed over to Mrs. 
Dana as a matter of course. 

When Mrs. Dana died, Nannie mourned for her as 
for her own child, and she loved Victor with a double 
love, for himself and his mother too. She was now 
very old, and all she had to care for was Victor. He 
was the object of her constant anxiety, and she never 
took her eyes off him, if she could help it. 

Victor was a strong, handsome, courageous boy, 
with fair complexion, curly yellow locks, flashing 
blue eyes, full of daring and spirit; and while he 
loved Nannie, her devotion was often most annoying 
to him. He ruled her with a rod of iron, making her 
do exactly as he wished. Mr. Dana and his Aunt 
Grace realized that Nannie’s devotion was not always 


Clubs. 


57 


good for the boy ; but it was a difficult problem to 
withdraw him from under her wing without breaking 
her heart. 

“ How many have we decided on now ? ” asked 
Kitty. “ You name them, and I will keep count on 
my fingers.” 

“You and I,” said Amy, “and Dob, Laura, Elliot, 
Dixon, Claribel, Donald, and Victor.” 

“ Nine already,” said Kitty. “ And we want Ben 
Bruce, of course.” 

“Of course,” echoed Amy, for Ben, big, good- 
natured, and good-looking, was popular with all the 
girls. 

“Then that makes our ten,” said Kitty; “and we 
can’t have Paul, or any of the other big boys.” 

“I know it,” said Amy. “We can have only ten; 
but they might start a club of their own.” 

The new club met promptly to the minute Monday 
evening, in the Strongs’ dining room. Mrs. Herndon 
also, came to help them organize. The first difficulty 
arising was that all wanted to be officers. There was 
a great hubbub of voices, all talking together; and 
Donald and Victor took advantage of the confusion to 
slip under the table and pinch the legs of the unsus- 
pecting Dixon, who, having fallen foul of a book, was 
lost to the noise around him. 

Mrs. Herndon finally succeeded in calling the meet- 
ing to something like order, and said, — 

“My dear children, it is clearly impossible for you 
all to be officers. Even if there were enough officers 
to go around, there would be no club left for the 
officers to govern. The best plan will be to choose 


58 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


new officers every month. This will not only give each 
one a turn, but you will have the fun of balloting.” 

This plan striking the children favorably, Mrs. 
Strong produced slips of paper and pencils, and the 
balloting went on spiritedly, with this result: for 
President, Ben Bruce; Secretary, Kitty Clover; Clerk, 
Amy Strong; Treasurer, Laura Dawson; Marshal, 
Bob Clover. Kitty, who attended the public school, 
wrote a beautiful round hand, as plain as print, so 
she was chosen secretary ; but Amy was known to be 
so powerful in composition, that it was felt best to 
secure her talent for the club as clerk. The secre- 
tary was to keep the minutes, the clerk write any 
letters that might be necessary. 

Ben suggested the office of marshal, partly as a 
joke, partly because it was plain that Bob felt slighted 
because he had been elected to no office. Bob’s face 
brightened at once. 

“ But what am I expected to do ? ” he asked. 

“ Why, carry out the President’s orders ; keep order,” 
said Ben. 

“ All right. I ’ll make ’em behave,” said Bob. “ You 
fellows had better look out now. A marshal can 
arrest you, you know.” 

“ Pooh ! ” cried the small boys, “ we ’re not afraid of 
you, Bob Clover.” 

And they immediately began prancing around the 
room, to defy the new marshal, whose appointment 
threatened to promote disorder rather than order; 
but when Mrs. Herndon told them that they could 
not expect to belong to the club unless they obeyed 
its rules, they quickly subsided in their chairs. Quiet 


Clubs. 


59 


being once more restored, Mrs. Herndon explained 
the object of the new club. 

“ It is all contained in the name,” she said. “ The 
Brightside Club are to look on the bright side them- 
selves, and try to help give a bright side to other 
people’s lives, too, whenever they have an opportu- 
nity. You will be surprised, by the way, to find how 
many such opportunities you will find when you are 
on the look-out for them. The club’s aim might be 
expressed in this saying, which I noticed in Dixon’s 
last Sunday* school paper, — 

“ ‘ Do all the good you can, to all the people you 
can, in all the ways you can, as long as you can.’ 

“ You all understand what that means, I am sure. 
You might meet every fortnight during the winter. 
I will give you a simple order of service to open the 
meetings. You might each read or recite a short 
story or poem that has a ‘ Brightside ’ meaning. Then 
it would be pleasant if you would all keep your eyes 
open during the week; and if you happen to see 
some one do a kind deed that brightens some one 
else’s life a little, remember it, and tell it at the 
next meeting.” 

“ I should like that,” said Amy. “ Real stories are 
so much more interesting than made-up ones.” 

“ We shall all enjoy that,” said Laura. 

So this was the general programme agreed on for 
the meetings. Mrs. Herndon gave them the Bright- 
side mottoes which she wished them to learn, ready 
to repeat in concert at the next meeting. When the 
club met, the President was to call them to order, and 
then they were to begin the meeting by standing and 
reciting together, — 


60 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 

Our Motto. 

Look up and not down ; 

Look forward and not back ; 

Look out and not in ; 

Lend a hand. 

Our Text. 

And they helped every man his brother, and each one 
said to his neighbor, Be of good courage. 

Our Rules. 

Look on the bright side. 

Count up your blessings. 

Do cheerfully the duty that lies nearest. 

Reach out and touch other lives to brightness. 

The meeting then adjourned, to meet a week from 
Friday evening at Laura Dawson’s, Friday evening 
having been decided on, as there was no school the 
next day, and consequently no lessons to be prepared. 

After the meeting had adjourned, Mrs. Strong said, 
“As this is not a regular meeting of the club, I 
suppose I shall not be violating any rule if I offer 
refreshments,” and passed some nuts and bananas. 

If this were a violation of the rules of the club, 
the club winked at it cheerfully, and made up for 
any previous enforced quiet by much merry chat and 
laughter, and many merry jokes, as they picked their 
nuts. 

Nannie, pretending to have misunderstood the hour, 
had arrived early in the evening, much to Victor’s 
disgust. When she was putting on his overcoat to 
go home, he said, — 


Clubs. 


61 


“ Nannie, you know you came early on purpose to 
watch me, as if I were a great baby. You needn’t 
pretend. You know you did.” 

“ Ah, Master Victor, you should n’t speak so to your 
old Nannie. Let me tie your throat up good, for it ’s 
a cold night out. Now go and bid Mrs. Strong and 
Miss Amy good-night, and say you’ve had a very 
pleasant time, like a little gentleman.” 

Of course the organization of the new club made 
a great sensation among the children on the street, 
especially the big boys who were not in it. Mrs. 
Herndon suggested that they organize a club of their 
own. 

“ There is no limit to Brightside clubs, boys,” she 
said. “ The more the merrier.” 

The boys acted on this advice. Mrs. Herndon 
helped them organize, as she had the others. This 
club was composed wholly of boys, all the older girls 
on the avenue belonging to the first club. But Fred 
Woodard, who was president of what Brightsiders 
Number One called “ The Other Club,” proudly said 
to Ben Bruce, — 

“ A great club yours is ! A lot of girls and babies ! 
Now, we’ve got a club that is a club, and no mistake.” 

Ben, who knew that the other boys would gladly 
have had Amy, Kitty, and Laura in their club, wisely 
declined to pick up the defiance Fred had thrown 
down to him, and only said, — 

“ Let those brag that win. We ’ll see by-and-by 
who has the best club.” 


62 


Jolly Good Times To-Day . 


CHAPTER V. 

A BRIGHTSIDE MEETING. 

HE members of the Brightside Club met 



i promptly at Laura’s on the appointed even- 
ing, full of enthusiasm. After repeating the motto, 
text, and rules in concert, they sang an opening song, 
written for them by Mrs. Herndon, set to the air of 
“ Fair Harvard.’’ 

Not only Mrs. Herndon, but also Mrs. Strong and 
Mrs. Neale, — “ Cousin Elizabeth,” as Amy called her, 
— were present this first evening to see that all ran 
smoothly. 

Cousin Elizabeth might have been the original of 
Jean Ingelow’s poem, — 


“ The sweetest woman ere drew breath 
Was my son’s wife, Elizabeth.” 


She Was so full of loving-kindness that she was a 
whole Brightside Club in herself, — loving-kindness 
with plenty of wit and sparkle in it, too. 

“ Is n’t Cousin Elizabeth kind ? ” was a standing 
remark of Amy. 

After the opening exercises, Ben, prompted by Mrs. 
Herndon, who sat by his side, and made whispered 
suggestions now and then, said, — 

“ We agreed that we would each read or recite a 
Brightside story or poem, or tell something we had 


A Bright side Meeting. 63 

seen. I will go right around the table in turn. Kitty, 
you come first.” 

“ Mamma told me this,” said Kitty. “ Our washer- 
woman’s brother has been having dreadful trouble 
with his eyes, so that he could n’t work ; and he was 
so poor that people had to help him, or his family 
would have starved. He felt that he could n’t afford 
to go to a doctor to have his eyes treated, and he did n’t 
know what to do. And only think, wasn’t it nice 
and kind, young Dr. Trimble on this street, — you 
know he is just beginning as an oculist, — heard 
about it, and offered to treat the poor man for nothing, 
if he would come to him ; and now his eyes are per- 
fectly well, and he has gone to work. That was 
brightening some one’s life in earnest.” 

“ What is your story, Laura ? ” asked Ben. 

“ Mine is a true story too,” said Laura ; “ but it 
did n’t happen here. It happened in Massachusetts. 
A few years ago, there was a dreadful accident on the 
Hoosac Railroad. Going around a curve, on the edge 
of a steep embankment two hundred feet above the 
Deerfield River, the track, weakened by rains, gave 
way, and an express train ran off. The engine and 
tender and one or two cars went down this steep 
bank. The fireman had jumped off, and was only 
slightly hurt. Looking down the bank, he saw the 
engineer pinned under the heavy engine, with the hot 
steam pouring out on him. The fireman ran down 
to see if he could release him, but the engineer 
said, — 

Never mind me, Jim; I’m done for. Flag the 
track.’ 

“He knew there was another train due soon, and 


64 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 

though he was dying in such agony, he forgot himself 
in trying to save others.” 

Tears stood in Laura’s eyes when she finished, and 
in some other eyes too. 

“ Rob, it ’s your turn now,” said Ben. 

“ I did n’t find anything very B rights ide-ish,” said 
Rob, “ and so I am going to say the piece I spoke at 
school to-day. My teacher said it was a good poem, 
and she wanted all the scholars to remember it. She 
said it was a German poem. 

“ ‘ He who is rich 

Can drive with a span ; 

He who is poor 
Must go as he can. 

" ‘ Better honest and poor, 

And go as you can, 

Than rich and a rogue, 

And drive with a span.’ ” 


The children clapped Rob’s verses, and Mrs. Neale 
said, — 

“ Your teacher was right, Rob ; that is a good poem 
for boys, or indeed any one to remember.” 

Amy’s turn came next. She said, — 

“ My story is only a little thing, — something that I 
saw last Saturday, as mamma and I were coming out 
from the city. A very pretty lady got into the car 
with us, at the post-office, carrying a beautiful bunch 
of yellow chrysanthemums, the largest I ever saw. 
They were like great golden balls. There was no one 
in the car at first except us ; but at the corner of 
Broadway and Court Street, a little girl came in with 
a market-basket. It was so heavy it bent her all 


A Brightside Meeting. 


65 


over. She did not look more than ten years old, and 
she was poorly dressed ; but the saddest thing was her 
face. It looked so old and sober, almost wrinkled, 
like an old woman’s. She did n’t look as if she had 
ever laughed, or played, or had a good time in her life. 
I felt so sorry for her. 

“ The lady with the flowers kept looking at her. 
By-and-by she slipped along on the seat, and took 
some chrysanthemums out of her bunch, and said to 
the little girl, with a sweet smile, — 

" ‘ Would n’t you like some flowers ? ’ 

“ You ought to have seen how the little girl’s face 
changed ! It smiled all over, and the tired, worried 
look went out of it, and she said joyfully, — 

“ ‘ Oh, yes, thank you, ma’am.’ 

“ Then she sat looking at the flowers in her hand, 
as if she could n’t believe her eyes. They were like 
little suns, they brightened her face so. Once in a 
while she would smile at the lady, and then the lady 
would smile back again. She got out of the car on 
the hill, but her basket did n’t seem nearly as heavy 
as before, and she walked off up the street quite 
quickly, looking at her flowers all the time.” 

“ Amy said her story was only a little thing,” said 
Mrs. Strong; “ but it’s the little things, after all, 
that make life happy or wretched. Big things only 
come once in a while, but the little things are hap- 
pening all the time.” 

It was now Elliot’s turn, but he said, — 

“ I don’t know any Brightside story.” 

“Why, Elliot,” said Amy, “I can tell you one that 
happened right at your house. Don’t you remember 
last week, when we were playing at your house, old 

5 


66 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


Mrs. Wigsley came to call on your mother, and she 
was out, and how kind and polite, your sister Rose was 
to her ? She made Mrs. Wigsley come in and sit 
down and warm and rest herself nicely, and talked to 
her pleasantly ; and when she went away, your sister 
insisted on helping her down the steps, because Mrs. 
Wigsley is so lame.” 

“ Oh, that is n’t anything,” said Elliot. “ Rose is 
always doing such things as that.” 

“True, that was only one of the little things, 
Elliot,” said Mrs. Herndon ; “ but don’t you suppose 
it helped give a brighter side to old Mrs. Wigsley’s 
life?” 

“Why, yes, I guess it did,” said Elliot, remember- 
ing now how pleased and satisfied Mrs. Wigsley had 
looked, as she hobbled down the steps, leaning on his 
pretty sister’s arm. 

Little Claribel repeated Lucy Larcom’s “Three 
Saws,” — 

“ If the world seems cold to you, 

Kindle fires, to warm it ; 

Let their comfort hide from view 
Winters that deform it. 

Hearts as frozen as your own 
To that radiance gather ; 

You will soon forget to moan 
* Ah, the cheerless weather ! ’ ” 

Ronald said,' — 

“ This is a story that mamma gave me to tell. It 
is about an old colored man that lived in Cincinnati 
for a long time. Mamma said that she had not seen 
him lately, so she supposed he must be dead. He 
could whistle so beautifully that he was called 
‘ Whistling Charlie.’ He was very old ; his hair and 


A Brightside Meeting. 67 

whiskers were white, and he was all bent over. He 
pushed a hand-cart around the streets to earn his 
living. He used to go along the middle of the 
street, pushing his cart, never looking to the right 
or left, but whistling so beautifully that every one 
would stop to listen, and say, ‘ There goes Whistling 
Charlie.’ Mamma said — what was it you said, 
mamma ? ” 

“ Donald forgets the Brightside part of his story,” 
said Mrs. Neale, laughing. “ I said there was always 
something touching to me in his music : the poor old 
man, bent and gray, pushing his heavy cart through 
the crowded street, while high above all the din and 
noise soared his musical notes, with trills and runs 
like a mocking-bird’s, — really beautiful. It sounded 
cheerful and inspiring, as if to remind us that there 
was something besides hard work and trouble in the 
world. Even out of his poor life, Whistling Charlie 
was able to brighten other lives.” 

“I remember old Whistling Charlie well,” said 
Mrs. Strong. “I always had the same impression 
you speak of from his music.” 

It now being Dixon’s turn, he looked up wisely, 
and said, in his old fashion, — 

“I think I will tell something that I saw in the 
newspaper last winter. That cold spell when the 
mercury went very low, and the weather was so 
cold, and the snow so deep, a lady over in East 
Oak Grove used to diave hot coffee made every day, 
and give hot coffee and sandwiches to the car conduc- 
tors and gripmen when they went past her house. I 
guess those men thought she made a bright side to 
their lives.” 


68 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 

“ I guess so too, Dixon, ” said his mother. 

Victor now repeated some verses by Susan Coolidge 
that his Aunt Grace had taught him : — 

“ One little star in the starry night, 

One little beam in the noonday light, 

One little drop in the river’s might, — 

What can it be ? Oh, what can it do? 

“ Each little star has its special ray ; 

Each little beam has its place in the day ; 

Each little river-drop impulse and way ; 

Feather and flower and songlet help too. 


“ Each little child can some love-work find, 
Each little hand and each little mind ; 

All can be gentle and useful and kind, 
Though they are little, like me and like you.” 


“The little poems fit in nicely to our talk,” said 
Mrs. Herndon. 

It was now Ben’s turn. 

“Perhaps you all know my story,” he said. “It 
is about John King, the Cincinnati newsboy, who 
gave twenty-seven hundred books to the Public Li- 
brary. He was a farmer’s son, up in Michigan. By 
accident, he lost the use of first one leg and then the 
other, so that he was bedridden for five years. His 
only comfort was to read. He read every book he 
could get hold of, but there were few books of any 
kind in his neighborhood. He resolved that, if he 
possibly could, he would have a big library of his 
own some day. It was eight years before he was 
able to work at all. Then he came hobbling to Cin- 


A Brightside Meeting. 


69 


cinnati on crutches, and found work in a tobacco 
factory ; but in about two weeks he was taken down 
with small-pox, and had to stay in the pest-house six 
months.” 

“ I should think he would have been discouraged,” 
said Laura, “ with so much bad luck.” 

“ He was,” said Ben. “ He felt then as if he did 
not care about living any longer, his life was so hard, 
and the outlook so dark for him. After a while he 
was able to return to the tobacco factory ; but being 
crippled in both legs, he could hardly live on what he 
was able to earn, so he decided to try selling news- 
papers for a living. Now he did better ; he earned 
about a dollar a day. He not only lived out of this, 
but saved some money. He kept buying good books 
all the time, too, and saving them for a time when he 
should be able to sit down and ‘ have a big read/ as 
he said. He became secretary of the Newsboys’ 
Union, and did much to help the newsboys. 

“ His troubles were not all over yet. He had fifty 
dollars saved, when a man persuaded him to invest it 
in a machine for making brooms. The firm soon 
failed ; and John King not only lost all his fifty dol- 
lars, but was left one hundred and fifty dollars in 
debt, and he paid off every cent of that debt before 
he bought another book.” 

“Three cheers for John King!” cried Bob, and 
they were given with a will. 

“Afterward he lost all his savings again, by the 
failure of a banking firm.” 

“ I think he had more than his share of troubles,” 
said Amy. 

“But notice, Amy,” said her mother, “that he 


70 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


didn’t sit down and whine over them, and consider 
himself abused. He ‘tried, tried again,’ bravely.” 

“ He began to see, though,” said Ben, “ that the 
time for his ‘ big read ’ was not coming very soon. 
Then there was a great fire in the city, which fright- 
ened him for the safety of his books, which were 
stowed in boxes and trunks in his room in an old 
wooden tenement-house. So he resolved to give 
them all to the Public Library, where they would be 
safe and well cared for. There were, as I said before, 
twenty-seven hundred of them.” 

“Valuable books, too,” said Mrs. Herndon. “It was 
said at the time to be an excellent collection.” 

The children all expressed their admiration for 
John King ; and Kitty asked, “Is he living now ? ” 

“ No,” said Ben. “ He was found dead in his 
room. He died Feb. 24, 1886. The only furniture 
in his room was an old bed and bureau, an old safe 
and stove ; but there were two thousand books in the 
room, arranged on shelves put up all around it. He 
was given employment in the Public Library the last 
of his life, which must have just suited him.” 

“ When he gave the books to the Public Library,’* 
said Mrs. Neale, “there were articles about him in 
the papers all over the country. ‘ Harper’s Weekly ’ 
had his picture, and a long article comparing him to 
Elihu Burritt, the learned blacksmith. A gentleman 
in New York, Dr. Hinton, admired his character so 
greatly that he wrote to the editor of the ‘Commer- 
cial,’ offering to send on a check of twenty-five dollars 
toward a sum to be put at interest for King’s benefit. 
King said he was very grateful to Dr. Hinton for his 
kind interest, but he did not need the money, and did 


A Brightside Meeting . 


71 


not feel like accepting help from any one. If, how- 
ever, Dr. Hinton were willing, he should be glad to 
pay the check to the Children’s Home. Dr. Hinton, 
in reply, wrote, — 

“ ‘ John King is certainly made of true metal. He 
has enough of the leaven of manliness for a whole 
city.’ He cheerfully sent the check to King, to be 
given in his own name to the Children’s Home.” 

“ Now comes my contribution,” said Mrs. Strong. 
“ Ben told Amy what his story was to be about, and 
that reminded me that I had a letter from John 
King which it would perhaps interest you children 
to see. I will first read it aloud, and then pass it 
around for you to see. The letter will explain itself. 
It has the true Brightside spirit, you will notice.” 

The letter was as follows : — 

Cincinnati, Aug. 12, 1879. 

Dear Madam, — I received from you a copy of the 
“ Christian Register” of Boston, containing marked article, 
which I have read, and for which I am much obliged to 
you. 

I am glad to know that I have lived to some little pur- 
pose for others, even if life has been but little better than 
a burden to myself. 

I might do a little moralizing, but don’t care to run the 
risk of being tiresome. 

Again thanking you for your kindness, I am, 

Very respectfully yours, 

John King, Newsboy , 

46 East Third Street. 

Seeing the letter in John King’s own handwriting, 
made him seem very real to the children. 


72 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


“ What a remarkable character he was ! ” said Mrs. 
Herndon. “ He ought never to be forgotten.” 

“ If every one did as much for others in proportion 
to their means and opportunities,” said Mrs. Dawson, 
“as John King did, this world would be a different 
place. We should indeed, as Claribel’s verse said, 
‘ kindle fires to warm it.’ ” 

It being now time to adjourn, the club broke up. 
But Laura found time to tell Amy and Kitty an 
exciting bit of news, as they were putting on their 
cloaks. 

“ Oh, girls,” she said, “ what do you think ? We ’re 
going to have some new neighbors in the McDuffy 
house ! ” 

As most of the houses on the avenue were occupied 
by their owners, there were few changes, so this was 
most interesting. 

“ Who are they ? ” asked Kitty. 

“ I do hope they will have some girls,” said Amy; 
“we need more girls on this street so much.” 

“ I don’t know anything about them,” said Laura, 
“only Mr. McDuffy told father yesterday that h£ 
had had the good luck to rent his house to a very- 
nice family.” 

“ I can tell you all about it, Miss Laura,” said 
Nannie, who had come for Victor as usual. “The 
gentleman came to our house to-day for the key, and 
Miss Grace had quite a talk with him. He is a cap- 
tain in the navy, Captain Brownell.” 

“ A captain in the navy ! ” exclaimed the girls. 

“Yes. He is to have charge of all the lights on 
the Ohio Biver and branches, between Pittsburg and 
Cairo.” 


A Brightside Meeting. 


73 


“ How interesting ! ” said the girls. 

“ But do you know, Nannie, if he has any children ? ” 

“ There are some young ladies in the family, because 
he spoke of them to Miss Grace,” said Nannie, “ but 
that is all I know about it. They move in next 
Monday.” 

“ Then I shall watch to see if there are any chil- 
dren,” said Amy. 

The children now came out into the bright moon- 
light. Faithful Duke, who had followed Rob and 
Kitty to the club, and had been sitting patiently on 
the Dawsons’ front porch ever since, waiting for them, 
welcomed them with glad barks and much leaping 
about, and joyfully helped the club escort each other 
home. The club had now evidently laid aside its 
dignity, and there was a merry sound of children’s 
voices and laughter mingled with many loud “ bow- 
wows ” on the evening air, and much scampering of 
the company up and down the avenue, with cheerful 
“ Good-night, Amy,” “ Good-night, Kitty and Rob,” 
“ Good-night, every one,” as they parted. 


74 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


CHAPTER VI. 


THE NEW NEIGHBOR. 


MY was so deeply interested in the new neighbors 



l\. that she even wanted to stay at home from 
school Monday. 

“ I have all my books at home,” she pleaded in a 
feeble tone, “ and my head aches.” 

“Too much reading yesterday,” said her mother. 
“ I am surprised that you should want to stay at home 
from school; I thought you were so fond of your 
school.” 

“ So I am,” said Amy. “I love it. But I thought 
one day would not make any difference if I studied 
my lessons at home ; and the new neighbors might 
come while I was away.” 

“Oh, that’s the trouble, is it?” said Mrs. Strong. 
“But you must go to school, Amy. Marguerite 
would be greatly disappointed if you were not there. 
Was n’t it to-day that she wanted you to go home 
to lunch with her ? ” 

“ Why, so it was ! I had almost forgotten about it. 
Then I must go, of course,” said Amy, cheerfully, her 
aching head seeming suddenly better. “ But please 
be sure to watch, mamma, and see how many children 
the Brownells have.” 

As Amy passed by, she looked with much interest 
at the McDuffy house. The front door stood open, 
and a colored man was cleaning the windows and 


The New Neighbor. 


75 


porch. The prettiest little Scotch terrier Amy had 
ever seen, with silky yellow hair hangingoverhisbright 
black eyes; and a blue ribbon tied in a jaunty bow on 
his collar, ran out and barked smartly at Amy's heels, 
turning back, wagging his little tail with a proud, 
self-satished air, like one who has done his whole 
duty, when the man called, — 

“ Here, Nixie, Nixie, come here, sir ! What are 
you about ? ” 

“ What a pretty dog ! ” thought Amy. “ That must 
be their dog. I am sure they must have some 
children. But I must hurry, or I shall miss the 
omnibus.’ ’ 

Miss Nutting’s omnibus, which went over to Hill- 
top every morning to collect the pupils from that 
lovely suburb, stopped at the Grand Avenue drug- 
store mornings for Amy. Hardly was she in the 
drug-store before she heard the toot of the driver’s 
horn, which always embarrassed her, it seemed to 
make her such a conspicuous object of public interest 
in the neighborhood. She ran out, and hastily climbed 
in, being received with friendly “ good-mornings ” by 
those great persons to whom Amy and her friends 
looked up with much respect, — the seniors, several of 
whom came from Hilltop ; girls who had reached the 
venerable age of seventeen, some of them. 

The omnibus jolted and banged along to Oak Grove, 
the suburb where Miss Nutting’s school was situated. 
As Amy entered the school building, she found a 
group of girls gathered around their idol, Mademoi- 
selle de Caron, a bright and pretty young French- 
woman. Amy’s cousin, Marguerite Strong, ran to 
meet her. 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


• 76 

“ I am so glad you have come,” she said. “ Oh, 
Amy, there is great news : Miss Nutting is going to 
give a historical party, and we are all to go in char- 
acter ! You are to be a Saxon slave, on account of 
your long light hair, and I am to be Lady Jane Grey. 
Won’t it be delightful ? ” 

“ Lovely ! ” said Amy. “ I love to act. But per- 
haps I shall be afraid before so many people.” 

“ Vous §tes forte timide, je pense,” said Mademoi- 
selle, smiling pleasantly at Amy. Amy laughed, and 
agreed with Marguerite, when she whispered, — 

“ Is n’t Mademoiselle perfectly sweet ? ” 

Marguerite and Amy sat together, much to their 
happiness. They sat in Miss Nutting’s own room, 
a much-prized privilege. 

“ It is so interesting to see Miss Nutting manage 
the girls,” Amy had confided to her mother. 

Miss Nutting was a bright woman, with an original 
mind and methods, a deep knowledge of girl nature, 
and a great fondness for the girls themselves. Miss 
Nutting had no ruts, and there was never any know- 
ing where you would find her next. This kept the 
girls on the alert. They could never settle down into 
an easy-going, jog-trot round; their minds were 
kept awake and active. 

Miss Nutting seemed to know by intuition what 
was going on, without looking. This being Monday 
morning, two of the girls in the younger history 
class, not knowing their lessons, were struck with 
the happy thought of writing the hardest dates and 
names on the palm of their hands with ink. It was 
done unobtrusively ; and, for once, Miss Nutting did 
not seem to notice. But when the history class 


The New Neighbor. 


77 


recited, she asked only review questions. The lesson 
over, she said, — 

“ Now, Elsie and Jennie, you can go to the dressing- 
room and wash the ink from your hands ; ” and the 
girls withdrew, discomfited, amid the giggles of the 
whole room. 

The school had only one session, closing at one 
o’clock. Amy went home with Marguerite to lunch- 
eon. Marguerite lived in Oak Grove, not far from the 
schoolhouse. Her brother Theodore attended Profes- 
sor Clark’s school for boys, also in Oak Grove. Until 
this year, the children had been taught at home by a 
private teacher. This first year of school-going was 
a great experience for them. Theo, especially, was 
full of his new experiences in the world of boys on 
which he was now launched. At the lunch-table 
to-day, he astonished his sweet, gentle mother by 
saying, — 

“ There ’s a boy at our school I guess I shall have 
to fight.” 

“ Theo ! ” exclaimed his mother, in horror. 

“ He sits behind me, and this morning he kept put- 
ing his feet up on me. Then I pinched his legs well. 
Then he leaned over and whispered, ‘ If you pinch my 
legs any more, I ’ll knock the dust off your eyeballs.’ 
Do you suppose he can do it ? ” 

“ What a terrible place school is ! ” exclaimed his 
mother, who felt much like the hen who stands on 
shore seeing her ducklings launch out upon a pond. 

Theo’s father, who was the Rev. Dr. Theodore 
Strong, an eminent Presbyterian minister, said, — 

" You must not seek quarrels, Theodore. You know 
we are commanded to live peaceably with all men.” 


78 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


“ Yes, father, but you know we are commanded, too, 
to ‘ fight the good fight of faith/ ” said Theo, who was 
never at a loss for a Scripture quotation to be used in 
his own defence. 

“We will talk the matter over again by-and-by,” 
said his father. 

After luncheon, the children went upstairs into the 
roomy, sunny nursery, and acted scenes from “ Uncle 
Remus,” Marguerite and Theo being as fond of acting 
as Amy herself. Theo was a most realistic Brer Fox, 
Marguerite, whose negro dialect was perfect, an 
equally good Brer Rabbit ; while Amy figured as the 
Tar Baby. Then they acted school scenes. Amy was 
Miss Nutting ; Marguerite was Mademoiselle ; and 
Theo made a lively and unmanageable school, assuming 
many young-ladyish airs and affectations, and requir- 
ing all the time of both teachers to manage him. 

In this agreeable manner, time flew all too quickly ; 
and four o’clock, the hour when Amy was to go 
home, came sooner than they could believe. 

“ Come again soon,” said both cousins, as Amy said 
good-by. 

When Amy turned into Hillside Avenue, she saw 
a furniture car backed up before the McDuffy house. 
And oh, joy, a girl of her own age stood on the front 
porch, watching the men unload the furniture. Amy 
looked shyly at her, and saw that the new neighbor 
was also watching her with interest. 

“ I ’ve seen her, mamma ! ” cried Amy, as she rushed 
into the library. “ I ’ve seen her ! ” 

“ Seen whom ? ” asked her mother, with aggravating 
calmness, not looking up, indeed, from the letter she 
was writing. 


The New Neighbor. 


79 


“ The new neighbor. She has beautiful long brown 
hair, and she wears it just as I do mine, only it is 
banged on her forehead ; and she looks so pretty and 
pleasant. I wonder what her name is. Do you think 
Kitty and I might go over and call to-night ? ” 

“ I am very glad if there is a girl of your own age 
in the family,” said Mrs. Strong. “ But I hardly think 
they are ready for calls yet. Wait until they are 
settled.” 

But the next day, when Amy came home from 
school, the new neighbor was again on the porch, 
and she and Amy smiled at each other. 

“ Oh, mamma,” said Amy, “ I really must go over 
to-night. She looked lonely, and as if she wanted to 
know me as Inuch as I want to know her.” 

As soon as Kitty came home from school, Amy ran 
in for her to make the important call. 

“ What do you think her name is ? ” asked Amy, 
as they walked along. 

“Oh, I don’t know,” said Kitty. “It might be 
anything, — Grace or Nellie or Mary or Edna or any- 
thing.” ^ 

“ I hope it ’s Eleanor or Isabel or Elizabeth,” said 
Amy. 

The new neighbor met them smilingly. 

“ I am your neighbor, Amy Strong,” said Amy, “ and 
this is Kitty Clover.” 

“ My name is Irene, — Irene Brownell,” said the 
new neighbor. 

“ Irene ! how romantic ! how uncommon ! ” thought 
Amy. 

Irene’s mother, a pleasant, gentle lady, now ap- 
peared, and said, — 


80 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


“ As the house is in such confusion, Irene, you may 
take your friends up into your room, which is partly 
in order.” 

Here, in Irene’s pretty room, looking out over the 
valley back of Hillside Avenue with its over-arching 
elms, the girls sat and chatted as fast as three girls’ 
tongues could fly. They told each other all their past 
history ; and when the dinner hour was so near that 
Amy and Kitty evidently must tear themselves away, 
it was with many promises on Irene’s part that she 
would return their call promptly, and on theirs to 
come again soon. 

“ Is n’t she lovely ? ” asked Amy, enthusiastically, 
as they walked home. 

“ Ye-es, rather,” said Kitty. 

“ I like her so much, don’t you, Kitty ? ” 

“ I haven’t seen enough of her yet to know how I 
shall like her,” said Kitty. 

Amy found that she could not rouse Kitty to her 
own pitch of enthusiasm over the new neighbor. In 
truth, Kitty felt a little jealous of Amy’s intense 
admiration of the new-comer. She had always had 
Amy to herself. Laura lived so far away, and was 
always so busy, that they saw her only occasionally ; 
and so Amy and Kitty had been constantly together 
with no one to come between them. Kitty loved Amy 
dearly, and it was hard for her to welcome one who 
threatened to be a rival in her friendship. 

At the dinner-table that night, Amy could not quite 
repress her enthusiasm, although there was a guest 
present. But as it was Aunt Mary, w r lio had come 
down from Dayton for a few days’ shopping and 
visit, she felt free to talk. 


The New Neighbor. 


81 


Ci Irene is the most interesting girl I ever knew,” 
she said. “ She has lived everywhere : in Portsmouth 
and Baltimore and Philadelphia and Washington, 
and I don’t know where. They came from Washington 
here. And she ’s been in Africa, and ” — here Amy 
stopped to take breath before imparting her chief 
item of interest — “ she ’s actually been in Spain, and 
seen Gibraltar and the Alhambra ! ” 

“She certainly is a travelled young lady for her 
age,” said Professor Strong. “ And she has seen some- 
thing worth seeing if she has seen the Alhambra.” 

“ I would rather go there than anywhere else,” said 
Amy, whose one desire had been to see the Alhambra, 
ever since reading Irving’s account of it. “ But it is 
better than nothing to know some one that has been 
there, especially a girl of my own age. They were 
there a whole week. Their hotel windows looked 
right into the Alhambra grounds, and sometimes 
their lunch-table was set out in the grounds. It was 
fascinating, Irene said. Her mother read ‘ Tales 
of the Alhambra’ aloud to them while they were 
on the spot. Think of that ! And Irene goes on 
cruises in her father’s steamer sometimes. It is so 
interesting to know the daughter of a captain in 
the navy. How glad I am they moved on Hillside 
Avenue ! ” 

Here on the evening wind there arose a most dis- 
tressing sound, — a disconsolate wail or moan, as of 
some creature in acute distress. 

“ What is that ? ” asked Aunt Mary, who was 
nervous. 

“ It ’s only Duke, our neighbors’ dog,” said Pro- 
fessor Strong. 


6 


82 Jolly Good Times To-Day. 

“ He often uplifts his voice in that way,” said Mrs. 
Strong. 

“ The poor creature must be suffering,” said Aunt 
Mary. “ Some one ought to help him.” 

“Hot at all,” said Professor Strong. “It is only a 
little way he has. He is a most affectionate creature, 
and cannot endure to be alone. He pines for human 
society ; so he howls to while away his loneliness.” 

“I should be almost superstitious about it,” said 
Aunt Mary, as Duke’s mournful cries wailed around 
the house like a banshee. 

Here Kob’s cheerful whistle was heard. Duke’s 
wails subsided into a joyful bark or two ; the Clovers’ 
door was heard to close, and silence reigned outside. 

“ They ’ve taken him into the house,” said Amy. 
“ That was what he wanted. Irene is coming over to 
see me to-morrow, mamma. She loves to read, and 
she draws beautifully, and she likes to imagine stories 
and draw them out, just as I do. It will be so nice 
to have a friend that likes to do the same things that 
I do.” 

The next morning, when Professor Strong went to 
the front door for his morning paper, it was not there ; 
but a dog’s fresh tracks on the porch led the professor 
to the corner of the house to investigate. Yes ; there 
was Duke just disappearing around the corner of the 
Clovers’ house, carrying his head very high, because 
the paper was unfolded, and dragging on the ground. 
The professor laid aside his dignity and gave hot 
chase, but in vain. Duke, clinging to his prize, fled 
like the hunted deer, down into the hollow, over the 
brook, and farther up on the opposite hill than the 
professor cared to follow. Here lying down, he 


The New Neighbor. 


83 


calmly chewed the remains of the paper in the very 
face of the helpless professor. 

The torn fragments of another paper on the Clovers’ 
porch showed that the rogue had begun his morning 
meal on the home paper. When Mr. Clover came out 
for his paper, he was properly exasperated at Duke’s 
mischief. 

“ That dog must be punished,” he said. “ He must 
have a lesson that will break him of his tricks.” 

When, after what he thought a safe interval, Duke 
came sneaking guiltily home, he was taken up on the 
front porch, seated on the ruins of the newspapers, 
solemnly chastised, and then banished to the back 
yard in disgrace, with the awful words “ Bad dog ! ” 
ringing in his ears. 

He seemed quite downcast and penitent, but that 
did not prevent his stealing one of Bridget’s rubbers 
which she, in a moment of carelessness, left outside 
the laundry door, that very afternoon. 

It was an exciting time. Amy, Kitty, Rob, and 
Elliot chased the culprit up hill and down, to rescue 
the rubber, Duke evidently thinking it a most delight- 
ful new game and enjoying it intensely, while Bridget 
stood on the back porch and hurled all sorts of male- 
dictions on his silky head. 

“Just let me catch you around here again, you 
rascal, and it ’s a good dipper of hot water you ’ll get 
on your back,” she said. 

“ Oh, Bridget, you would n’t be so cruel,” said Amy, 
who came panting up the hill with the rubber, which 
had at last been wrenched from Duke, not without 
showing plain marks of his teeth. 

“Indeed and I will that,” said Bridget. “It’s a 


84 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


good scalding I ’ll give him. I ’ll pickle him well, if I 
catch him. Bothering the life out of me the whole 
time ! I can’t so much as leave a dish-wiper on the 
grass to sweeten, but he ’s after it. He ’s a nuisance, 
if there ever was one.” 

Only the next day, a righteous retribution overtook 
Duke. A series of loud, frightened barks and howls 
drew all the Clovers and Strongs to their windows to 
see what could possibly be the matter. Loud was the 
laughter when they saw Duke with a large mat on his 
back, his tail between his legs, running in abject fear 
down the driveway, trying to escape from this un- 
known and terrible enemy that clung to him so 
closely. It seemed that he had been on the front 
porch, engaged in one of his favorite amusements, 
worrying and dragging about a large carpet mat lying 
there, when the wind, which was blowing hard, sud- 
denly whisked the mat upon Duke’s back, and away 
he had run in terror, carrying the mat with him to 
the stable before he could escape. 


Hallowe'en. 


85 


CHAPTER VII. 

Hallowe’en. 

A BOUT this time Kitty had a candy-pull to cele*. 

brate her twelfth birthday, and Irene was one 
of the guests. Then, Amy had Kitty and Irene to 
dinner; and in the evening they played “ Authors,” 
and “ Messenger Boy,” and “ What D ’ye Buy ? ” and 
told fortunes out of Amy’s fortune-teller. So the 
acquaintance soon grew intimate. 

Mrs. Strong was much pleased with Amy’s new 
friend. Irene was a bright, refined child, with most 
pleasing manners, — a child who had been carefully 
trained by a mother who was an innate lady. She 
was a little old for her years, the natural result of 
having lived about the world so much, and being most 
of the time with older people. She had two young 
lady sisters, and had seen a good deal of society 
through their eyes, and consequently had imbibed 
some society ideas beyond her years, with which she 
liked sometimes to impress the other girls. 

Mrs. Strong was amused when Amy, who had never 
known that she had a “ form,” begged her always to 
begin at the bottom when she buttoned her dress. 

“ Irene says it will make you have a fine form to 
button your dress up from the bottom.” 

Amy also said that Irene w’as “ training her eye- 
brows.” About this time too, Amy had a temporary 


86 Jolly Good Times To-Day. 

fit of wearing a pair of old kid gloves to bed to soften 
her hands. 

“ I expect the next thing Amy will be bathing her 
face in hot water to prevent wrinkles,” said Mrs. 
Strong to her husband, who only laughed at the little 
girls’ fancies. 

Irene attended Miss Lud wick’s School for Young 
Ladies in Edgeton, which, like Amy’s school, had but 
one session. The unfortunate Kitty was not released 
from the public school until four o’clock in the after- 
noon, and if by chance the problems were unusually 
hard, was sometimes kept after school, besides. This 
threw Amy and Irene much together. They wrote 
stories together, and illustrated them with elaborate 
drawings ; and Amy soon found that Irene liked to 
play with dolls as well as she did. Their doll play- 
ing was not ordinary child’s play, however; it was 
rather dramas enacted with dolls. 

Eor this purpose little china dolls were much better 
than their large dolls, because they could have an 
infinite number of them, dressed to represent men, 
women, and children, and all grades of society. They 
found a delightful store up in the village, where 
you could buy any amount of dolls’ furniture 
for five cents, while ten cents was a small fortune 
there. 

“ Miss Blau always sets out her most enticing 
things when Irene and I go in,” said Amy. “She 
has such a cunning wardrobe for only ten cents she 
showed us to-day. Can’t I have ten cents more, 
mamma, and go right back and get it ? ” 

“ Miss Blau looks upon you and Irene as regular 
customers,” said Mrs. Strong, “and well she may. 


I 


Hallowe'en. 87 

But her gain is my loss. This constant flow of five 
and ten cent pieces bids fair to ruin me financially.” 

A doll settlement on a large scale was laid out in 
the Strongs’ attic, with a large summer hotel (made 
from an old bird-house), stables and mansions con- 
structed from bandboxes furnished elaborately from 
Miss Blau’s store, and even a theatre, for which Amy 
painted scenes. Here Amy and Irene spent much of 
their time afternoons. 

The dolls’ names indicated that they belonged to 
the highest class of society, where the most romantic 
events were probable, and were in ludicrous contrast 
to their size. Among Irene’s family were Sir Louis 
and Lady Vanderbuhl and their daughter Elnora, 
Helen Bicosoli, Count Binaldo Binaldini, Sir Leicester 
and Lady Dedlock, and Elizabeth Summerson ; while 
Amy’s numerous family contained such eminent per- 
sons as Lord and Lad}' Fauntleroy, Lady Vivian 
Herbert, Lord and Lady Spirendoff and their fair 
daughter Theodora, Madame Oskavetsky, Viscount 
Armand de Goupil, Madame de la Pompadour, Lord 
Ingersoll, and the Prince- of Abyssinia. There was 
also a numerous retinue of servants. 

Kitty did not care much about dolls, or other imagi- 
native plays; she preferred active outdoor sport. 
When she came home from school, it was not pleasant 
to find Amy always absorbed in playing dolls with 
Irene, or in making dolls’ clothes, or just going up to 
Miss Blau’s to buy more furniture. 

“Come, girls, do come outdoors and play,” said 
Kitty, one pleasant afternoon, coming up the attic 
stairs. “You’re always playing with these stupid 
dolls.” 


88 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


“ It ’s such fun,” said Amy. 

“ I don’t think so,” said Kitty. “ Won’t you come 
out now ? ” 

“ Oh, we can’t possibly go now,” said Amy. “ The 
Viscount de Goupil is just about eloping with Lady 
Vanderbuhl’s daughter Elnora. Sir Louis has just 
discovered it, and it’s so exciting. You stay here and 
play with us. You can have the Prince of Abyssinia 
and his whole family for yours. That is their pal- 
ace,” said Amy, pointing to a bandbox standing on 
its side, elaborately furnished, with four innocent- 
faced china dolls leaning stiffly against the little 
chairs. 

“And you can have the court carriage and the 
coachman and footmen for yours, and come and take 
our families out driving,” said Irene, rolling toward 
Kitty a tin horse and wagon, manned by small 
Japanese dolls. 

But even this magnificent offer did not tempt Kitty. 
She sat down on a trunk and looked gloomily on, 
while the play proceeded. 

“Oh my charming, my adored Elnora,” said Irene, 
in an affected tone, speaking for the viscount, a china 
doll about a finger tall, whose yellow hair Amy had 
darkened with liquid shoe blacking, giving him also 
a suitably romantic mustache, “ fly, fly with me ! 
Leave your cruel, stony-hearted parent, and fly with 
your adorer ! ” 

Then they “ flew.” 

“ Madame, where is my daughter ? I demand my 
daughter this instant,” growled Amy, in the gruff 
voice of Sir Louis. “You cannot deceive me. She 
has fled with that wretch, that detested villain, the 


V 


Hallowe'en. 89 

Viscount de Goupil. Order the carriage at once. I 
will pursue them to the very end of the earth.” 

Sir Louis Vanderbuhl, in the little tin wagon, was 
rattled off around the big chimney, whither the lovers 
had fled to sunny Italy, when suddenly Amy noticed 
that Kitty had disappeared. 

“ Why, where is Kitty ? ” she exclaimed. “ I did n’t 
see her go away, did you ? ” 

“No ; I thought she was still here,” said Irene. 

“ I ’m afraid she ’s mad,” said Amy. 

“ She has no reason to be,” said Irene. “We tried 
to have her play with us, and offered her the Prince 
of Abyssinia, and the court carriage, and everything. 
Oh, Amy, the Viscount de Goupil is killed ! Sir Louis 
ran over him with the carriage, and killed him in- 
stantly. I presume he did it purposely, he is so hard- 
hearted. Elnora is heart-broken. 1 Oh, my husband ! 
My dearest Armand ! My loved De Goupil ! ’ Hear her 
moans ! We shall have to give him a state funeral.” 

But even this absorbing event did not divert Amy’s 
mind from her friend Kitty. Presently she said, — 

“Let ’s not play this any more now. We shall have 
to put all the dolls into mourning, anyway, before we 
have the funeral. Let ’s go outdoors now, and play 
with Kitty.” 

When the girls came out, they found Kitty run- 
ning and playing with Duke. But when they called, 
“ Come on, Kitty, let ’s get as many children as 
we can, and play ‘ Pennsylvania,”’ Kitty took no 
notice. 

“Let’s go over there and make her come,” said 
Amy. 

The girls ran over on the Clovers’ lawn, whereupon 


90 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


Kitty scampered into the house, and shut her door 
with an emphatic bang. 

“ She is mad/’ said Amy, looking sober. “ I told 
you she was.” 

“ I never saw anything so unreasonable,” said Irene. 

She and Amy walked up and down in front of the 
Clovers’ house to show Kitty that they did not care, 
and then Kitty came out and ignored them some 
more. 

So the trouble grew ; and when Amy went into the 
house, feeling deeply wronged, she amazed her mother 
by saying emphatically, — 

“ I ’m never going to speak to Kitty Clover again 
as long as I live ! ” 

a Why, Amy,” said her mother, “ what is the mat- 
ter ? You and Kitty have always been such friends.” 

“ I can’t help it,” said Amy. “ I ’ll never speak to 
her again, or take her up to get ice-cream, or soda- 
water, or anything.” 

Then she told her mother the whole story. 

“ Amy,” said her mother, “ I can’t have you quar- 
rel with Kitty. As long as you have played together, 
you have never had but one falling out before ; and 
don’t you remember how sweetly Kitty made it up 
then ? ” 

Yes ; Amy did remember very well. It was a year 
ago last summer. Kitty was up in Amy’s room, wait- 
ing for her to dress, to go out and play with her. Amy, 
who was interested in some book, persisted in reading 
it while she dressed; and the more Kitty hurried her, 
the slower she worked. Finally, Kitty, provoked, 
slyly unbuttoned all Amy’s buttons behind, and ran 
away home. Then, too, Amy had declared she would 


Halloive'en . 


91 


never speak to Kitty again. But when she went out 
to dinner, on her plate was a shoe-box filled within, 
and covered on top, with lovely sprays of mock-orange 
blooms. The Strongs had no mock-orange bush. 

Amy’s face flushed, and lit up, at sight of this peace- 
offering. 

“ I ’m going to fill this box with roses,” she said, 
“ and take it into Kitty’s the back way,” which she 
did, and gave it to Maggie, who put it on Kitty’s 
plate, and after dinner the girls played together as 
usual, and Kitty spent the night with Amy. 

But although Amy remembered all this, she felt 
deeply injured, and hardened her heart. She said, — 

“ She has no reason to treat me so, and I will not 
endure it. I think she is — ” 

“ There ’s Kitty now,” said Mrs. Strong, “ coming 
up the back steps.” 

Amy, fled upstairs into the bath-room, and locked 
the door. Kitty came into the library. 

“ Can I see Amy a minute, Mrs. Strong ? ” she 
asked. 

“Yes,” said Mrs. Strong. “I think you will find 
her in the bath-room.” 

Kitty, who was as much at home in the Strongs’ 
house as in her own, ran upstairs and knocked on the 
bath-room door. No response. 

“Amy, Amy,” pleaded Kitty, “ please open the door.” 

A dead silence the other side the door. 

“ Amy,” cried Kitty, “ I forgive you.” 

“ What for ? ” asked a stiff voice from within the 
bath-room. 

“ Because I was mad at you.” 

There was no resisting this. But Amy felt awk- 


92 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


ward and a bit ashamed about making up. She said 
nothing, but there was a scrambling noise inside the 
door ; the transom flew open, and Amy’s head ap- 
peared through it, looking down on Kitty. Then 
both Kitty and Amy laughed. 

“ After you ’ve laughed, you can’t be mad any more,” 
as Amy said to her mother afterward, telling her 
about the reconciliation. 

Amy unlocked the door; and she and Kitty came 
down into the parlor and played “ Chopsticks ” duets of 
their own composing until dinner-time. And the next 
day, Kitty assisted with much pleasure at the state 
funeral of the Viscount de Goupil, which was held in 
the Brownells’ parlor, Irene’s mother and sisters being 
fortunately all out that afternoon. 

Amy wore a black ribbon on her hair, out of respect 
to the departed ; and the little dolls were all dressed 
in black. 

“ Where is Lady Fauntleroy ? ” asked Irene. 

“ She can’t come,” said Amy. “ She is n’t very well. 
The fact is, she has broken her head.” 

“ What a pity ! ” said Irene. “ We must have her 
funeral to-morrow, while the dolls are all dressed in 
black.” 

“ But she is n’t dead yet.” 

“ Oh, sure enough. I forgot. Does n’t the viscount 
look sweet ? ” 

The girls admired the viscount’s appearance greatly. 
He lay on the parlor table in a box marked “ Scented 
Glycerine Soap,” all bordered with lace paper. The 
funeral exercises were conducted by Irene. First 
she read from Longfellow’s poems, and then she 
played “Up in a Balloon ” quickstep “slowly and 


Hallowe'en. 


93 


solemnly ” — so Amy told her mother — on the 
piano. 

The viscount was buried in Irene’s private ceme- 
tery on the hillside, back of her house. Here were 
buried Irene’s fish. Whenever the steward on her 
father’s boat came up to the house, he brought Irene 
tiny fish which she always expected to raise. Her 
experiments deeply interested all the children on the 
avenue. In a large tub at the back door, Irene had 
a small catfish and several minnows. The catfish 
was named “Bonheur,” the others in pairs, as Irene 
thought she detected intimacies among them. There 
were “Borneo and Juliet,” “Damon and Pythias,” 
“ Buddha and Brahma.” Bonheur was the fish king, 
because he was the largest ; but in spite of this 
honor, and in spite of his lucky name, he was the 
first to die. 

Notwithstanding all the care Irene gave her fish, 
perhaps because of her well-meant attentions, the fish 
kept dying, though the supply was often renewed, 
until now twenty-one were buried in the cemetery. 
At first, they were buried in small boxes ; but the 
supply of boxes running low, Irene made a huge 
tomb out of a large soap-box set in the hillside. 

Burying the viscount did no harm, as the very next 
day he was dug up as good as new, and was even able 
to attend Lady Fauntleroy’s funeral, she having con- 
siderately died. 

The next night being Hallowe’en, Irene invited 
Amy and Kitty to spend the evening at her house, to 
celebrate the day with appropriate ceremonies. The 
girls were delighted at this invitation. It had been 
so aggravating to hear the boys saying, — 


94 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


“ Are you going out Hallowe’ening to-night, Eob ?” 

“ You bet I am ! Won’t we have fun, though ? ” 

Merely because they were girls, they could have no 
share in the sport; but now they too were going 
“ Hallowe’ening.” 

Ho sooner had the shades of evening fallen over 
Hillside Avenue than there began a scampering of 
boys up and down, and the sound of tin horns woke 
the evening echoes. The Evarts could not think 
what was the reason that their door-bell kept ringing 
so mysteriously, apparently by invisible hands. After 
going three times to the door, in response to rings, 
and finding no one there, the maid, exasperated, lay 
in wait, and jumped out at the next pull of the door- 
bell. There was a scuttling of boys off the porch, 
and a hasty vanishing around the house corner, but 
not before they received some good advice from the 
maid about not daring to do that again. 

Mrs. Strong, who had been through Hallowe’ens 
before, prepared for the siege systematically. 

“ Hora,” she said to her second girl, “ go out before 
dark and bring the door-mats, the scraper, and the 
porch chairs into the hall; and tell Bridget to roll 
the ash-barrel into the laundry.” 

Mrs. Kaiser well knew the danger, but scorned to 
prepare for the enemy ; she would fight them face 
to face, and defend her own possessions. At the first 
peal of her bell, out bounced Mrs. Kaiser, followed 
by her dog Kover. Eover barked furiously at the 
boys’ heels, and Mrs. Kaiser cried, — 

“ I ’ll send for the police, and have you all arrested, 
unless you keep away from here.” 

The boys, pursued by Eover, fled around the corner 


Halloween. 


95 


of the house, into the arms of Mr. Kaiser, — a small 
but determined man, armed with a cane, who had 
made an unexpected raid from the side door. There 
was a hot chase, and a narrow escape for the boys, 
who were only able to outrun Mr. Kaiser by being 
somewhat younger and more nimble. 

This was fun. It was comparatively tame to go 
and ring a door-bell and have no one take any notice 
of it. After trying this a few times, the unrespon- 
sive house was given up as poor sport. So now the 
chief efforts of the marauders were concentrated on 
Mrs. Kaiser’s house. Much satisfaction was had 
from “ tic-tacs ” fastened on her windows, and a 
string tied to her door-bell, which could be pulled 
from across the street, where, from behind a big 
spruce-tree, the wild and fruitless raids of Mr. and 
Mrs. Kaiser and Rover could be witnessed and en- 
joyed in safety. 

The war was kept up until the rap of the private 
policeman’s club down the street made it prudent to 
retire in good order. 

The next morning Mrs. Kaiser’s porch chairs had 
vanished, and only after a long search were found 
down in the hollow back of her house ; her door-mat 
was found in Dr. Trimble’s carriage, at the other end 
of the avenue ; and her ash-barrel had forever disap- 
peared, perhaps having helped feed the flames of a 
huge bonfire that had illuminated the street during 
the evening. 

At the Brownells’, the girls were invited out into 
the kitchen, where they found the Misses Brownell, 
another young lady, and also a young gentleman. 
They tried many magic spells, well-known to have 


96 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


the power of revealing the secrets of the future, 
which, oddly enough, all seemed to point directly 
toward matrimony. First, they bobbed for apples 
in a tub of water. The way an apple will not stand 
still in the water and be bitten, the rolling and sink- 
ing and treachery of it, as it slips away just when 
you are sure you have it, and lets your face into the 
water, are beyond belief, until you have tried it. 
Amy, Kitty, and Irene thought it the greatest fun 
imaginable, and often came up with their faces all 
dripping, sputtering and breathless, from the fruitless 
chase of obstinate apples. 

Still more interesting was the test of the pans. In 
one pan was water, in another a penny, in another a 
ring, in another a thimble. Irene explained it to the 
girls, — 

“You are blindfolded, and then we change the 
pans about. Then you walk to the table, and which- 
ever pan you put your finger in, decides your fate. 
If your finger goes into the water, you will travel a 
great deal ; the ring pan means marriage, the penny 
pan great wealth, and the thimble pan that you will 
never marry. People sometimes have another pan 
with ashes in it, for death, but mamma will not 
allow that.” 

Much laughter was caused by pretty Miss Zelia 
Brownell putting her hand in the thimble pan. 
The young gentleman, Mr. Bradbury, said warmly 
that it was plain there was no truth in this spell, and 
wished to try something else. Then they each named 
two chestnuts, and roasted them on a fork. The 
chestnut which popped off first was the favored 
suitor. Then they went outdoors in the dark, and 


Hallowe'en. 


97 


pulled up sticks at random and brought them in as 
symbols of their future husbands. 

“ Girls, if you will help me,” said Amy, “ I will 
pull up this young ailanthus-tree.” 

The tree, carried in triumph into the kitchen, was 
found to far surpass the somewhat crooked sticks 
which were all the young ladies had been able to 
find. 

The most exciting spell of all was that of the 
mirror. Miss Anna Brownell put a looking-glass on 
the ice-chest in the cellar, and placed a box before it 
for a seat. Then she hung a coat up behind the box. 
All being ready, she said, — 

“You are each to take a lighted candle in your 
hand, and go down cellar alone. You must sit on 
the box with the candle in your hand, eat an apple, 
and look in the glass, and you will see a vision of 
your future husband in the glass — perhaps.” 

Nothing would have induced Amy to go down cellar 
alone in the evening at home, but, animated by the 
excitement of Hallowe ? en, she actually went. Her 
stay was but brief, and she ran upstairs very fast. 

“ Did you see anything, Amy ? ” asked Irene. 

“ Nothing but an old coat,” said Amy ; “ but I 
heard a mysterious noise.” 

“ I only saw the coat too,” said Kitty. 

It turned out that the girls had injured the spell by 
sitting with their backs to the mirror. They both 
declined to try again, and Irene went down, but 
soon came running up fast. 

“ Oh, girls, what do you think ? ” she panted. “ I 
was hardly seated when I heard an awful groan ! I 
was terribly frightened. Then some one said * Boo ! , 

7 


98 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


Those boys had seen the light, and were all at the 
cellar window. I was so frightened ! ” 

“ That was the noise I heard, then,” said Amy. 

When Miss Zelia went down to try her fate, 
Mr. Bradbury made much fun by slipping slyly down, 
and peering over her shoulder into the glass ; but 
Amy and Kitty well knew that this would do him no 
good. They knew, for Irene had told them, that 
Nixie was not the Brownells’ own dog, but the 
property of a young lieutenant in the navy, — a very 
particular friend of Miss Zelia’s, who being off on a 
cruise, had left Nixie in her care. They knew how 
Miss Zelia petted Nixie, how she even washed him 
with her own dainty hands, how she combed him and 
curled him, and tied blue ribbons on his collar ; and 
they felt that the omens were all unfavorable to 
Mr. Bradbury. 

After refreshments, Mr. Bradbury and the young 
ladies kindly walked home with Kitty and Amy. A 
body-guard was very acceptable to the girls ; for a big 
bonfire at the other end of the avenue lit up the sky, 
around it danced many dark figures, tin horns were 
blowing, and boys, some of them in masks and queer 
costumes, were flying all about, and there was no 
knowing what might happen. 


A Hide on Pegasus. 


99 


CHAPTER VIII. 

A RIDE ON PEGASUS. 

N OVEMBER brought some lovely warm, hazy 
days, a genuine Indian summer. On one of 
these tempting days, Irene and Amy were sitting out 
on the seat on the Strongs’ lawn. Amy wore a new 
red felt hat, and a new red cape to match. The soft 
sunshine fell on the girls through the rustling brown 
leaves that still clung to the beech-tree, and seemed 
to allure them forth^to adventure. Something out 
of the common line seemed proper on such a day as 
this, especially when one had on a new red hat. Amy 
said, — 

“ I wish I knew what to do. It is such a pleasant 
day, it seems as if we ought to do something unusual.” 

“ It makes me feel like rambling in the fields, and 
exploring,” said Irene. 

“ Oh, 1 know what to do,” said Amy, struck with a 
happy thought. “Let’s go over to Beech Woods.” 

“ It sounds charming,” said Irene. 

“ It is,” said Amy. “ It is where we always go for 
wild flowers in the spring-time. It is n’t very far.” 

“ I should like to explore the country around here 
very much,” said Irene. 

“I’ll show you the way,” said Amy; and off the 
girls started for Beech Woods. 

They went up the avenue to its end, then down a 
new aveuue, as yet houseless, then climbed up a 


100 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


steep bank, over a fence, and were in the open 
pasture land. There was a brook running through 
a wild gorge at the farther limit of the large field ; 
and the steep banks and summits of the gorge were 
covered with a scattering grove of huge old oaks and 
beeches, — original forest trees that had not yet been 
cut. But civilization already threatened Beech Woods. 

“ Oh, dear, is n’t it too bad ? ” said Amy. “ They ’ve 
opened a new street leading this way since I was here 
last spring. The next thing we know it will be car- 
ried through here, and spoil these beautiful woods.” 

“ What a perfect shame ! ” said Irene. “ But is n’t 
it delightful to be out here in the fields, such a pleas- 
ant day ? ” 

“Yes, indeed,” said Amy; “it seems so free and 
wild.” 

The air was fresher and sweeter out here in the 
open than back among the houses. There was a great 
stretch of blue sky overhead; and inspired by the 
warm sunshine, the sweet air, the sense of wide free- 
dom, the girls played about as happy as lambs or 
kittens, or any other young creatures. Under the 
dead leaves on the hillsides they found plenty of 
beech-nuts. Then they came to a great poplar-tree, 
old and rotten, that had been blown over in last win- 
ter’s gales. Its top lay high up in the air, supported 
by the stout branches beneath ; and never was tree 
more tempting. The girls mounted the trunk, and 
found nice seats high up among the upper branches. 
There they teetered up and down on the swaying tree- 
top. Then they swung off by their, arms, clinging to 
the highest branches, daring each other to feats they 
had learned in their school gymnastics. 


A Ride on Pegasus. 


101 


The trunk of the old poplar was white, marked 
with odd spots and blotches. 

“ This tree-trunk looks like a circus horse,” said 
Irene. 

“ So it does,” said Amy. “ Oh, Irene, let ’s play 
it ’s Pegasus, the winged horse ! ” 

Amy was fresh from a re-reading of one of her 
favorite books, Hawthorne’s “Wonder Book.” 

“ Delightful ! ” said Irene. “ And here is the Foun- 
tain of Pirene on the hillside.” 

A spring trickled out of and down the hillside, 
making a wet spot much trampled by the feet of 
cows and horses that had come to drink there. 

“ These tracks are the Chimsera’s,” said Amy ; 
“ and oh, if here does n’t come the Chimsera now ! ” 

A peaceful cow was rambling in their direction, 
stopping now and then to crop the grass, still as green 
and fresh as in summer, here in Southern Ohio. 

“ We had best mount Pegasus at once, and away,” 
said Irene, who was afraid of cows, hastening to 
scramble up into the highest branches of the pros- 
trate poplar, closely followed by Amy. 

On the swaying branches they soared in fancy 
through the sky, far beyond the clouds, yet able to 
look down to earth and view in safety the ravages of 
the dread Chimsera, who, far from snorting out fire 
and desolation, as they played she did, mildly drank 
a few sips of water from the spring, and then rambled 
off again. 

But now they saw two rough-looking men climb 
the fence below the woods, and strike across for the 
hillside. 

“ I think we had better go home,” said Amy, now 


102 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


suddenly remembering that her mother never allowed 
her to go to Beech Woods without some older person. 

The girls slipped down out of the tree so hastily 
that their dresses received some sad rents ; but not 
stopping for that, or to pick their way, taking the 
shortest cut for the fence, they ran on, splashing 
through plenty of clay mud.' 

“ Play the Chimseras are after us,” Amy found 
breath to say, as they climbed over the fence into 
the road. 

But their pretty play was over. It was hard to 
come down thus rudely from their aerial trip through 
the sky on the back of beautiful Pegasus to common, 
every-day life again ; but worse trials were in store 
for them. 

When they came to the Clovers’, Laura and Kitty 
were out playing “ tap hands ” with Bob, Elliot, 
Willie McGrau, and Bonald. 

“ Oh, Kitty,” said Amy, “ we have had such adven- 
tures. We — ” 

But Kitty turned her back and walked away into 
the house. 

“ How queer Kitty acts ! ” said Amy. 

“ She ’s mad at you,” said Bob. 

“ I don’t see why,” said Amy. 

“ She thinks you and Irene ran off on purpose to 
get away from her. She says you go off and play 
with Irene every day, and don’t wait for her,” said 
Bob ; “ and she is n’t ever going to play with either of 
you again, or speak to you, or anything.” 

“ I never heard of anything so silly,” said Irene. 

“ We never thought of running away from her.” 

“ We just went off for a little walk, without think- 


A Ride on Pegasus. 


103 


ing anything about it,” said Amy. “Of course I 
would love to have Kitty go; but if she doesn’t want 
to play with me, of course she need n’t.” 

Here appeared Mrs. Strong, just returning from a 
meeting of the Woman’s Club. 

“ Amy,” exclaimed her mother, “ what a looking 
object you are ! Where have you been to get yourself 
in such a plight ? ” 

Poor Amy, who had felt so fine and happy in her 
new hat and cape, soaring aloft on the back of Pega- 
sus, now realized that her dress was torn, her hands 
black and dirty, her hair tangled by the breeze and 
the branches, and that her shoes were plastered with 
yellow clay. 

“ I took Irene over to Beech Woods a little while,” 
she said, for Amy always told the truth. 

“ I am surprised,” said her mother. “ You know I 
never let you go there alone. I consider it unsafe. 
You knew better than to do such a thing.” 

“ It was such a lovely day,” said Amy, “ and we 
both felt so country-ish, as if we must get off into the 
fields, that I forgot. I did n’t think.” 

“ And to take Irene, too, as particular as Mrs. 
Brownell is about her ! ” 

Irene had gone home, meantime, to face her fate. 

“Now, remember after this, Amy,” said her mother, 
“ never think of going off this avenue, without my 
special permission. Come in now, and go out in the 
kitchen and dry your shoes, and then see if you can 
clean them.” 

All this was very un-Pegasus-like, and far from 
pleasant. Then Bridget, when Amy entered the 
kitchen, said, — 


104 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


“ You ’re a nice young lady, coming tracking mud 
all over my clean floor, like a great dirty boy.” 

“ Oh, Bridget, don’t be cross,” said Amy. “ I ’m full 
of trouble. Mother ’s been scolding me, and I don’t 
believe Mrs. Brownell will ever let Irene play with 
me any more, and I’ve torn my dress, and I’ve got 
these awful shoes to clean, and Kitty and I are never 
going to speak to each other again ! ” 

“ Indeed, and that is news,” said Bridget. “ Now, 
don’t you fret about that. I would n’t be afraid to 
bet that you and Kitty will be playing together agin 
to-morrow, as intimate as two twin-sisters ; and I ’ll 
clean your shoes for you,” added Bridget, whose heart 
was always in the right place, if her tongue some- 
times belied it. 

“ Oh, thank you, Bridget,” said Amy. “ But I 
know Kitty will not make up. She is very mad, and 
she is never going to speak to me again, and so I ’m 
never going to speak to her either ; so how can we 
make up, you know ? ” 

“ You just wait and see,” said Bridget. 

The kitchen windows 'were high above the ground, 
for the house stood so far back on the sloping hillside 
that there was ample room for the laundry beneath ; 
and now, on the south kitchen window, came a 
mysterious tapping. 

“ What ’s that ? ” asked Amy, startled. 

Now came another rap ; and Amy ran to the window 
in time to see Kitty drop a cloth es-pole, and run 
around the corner. 

“ It ’s Kitty ! ” said Amy, her doleful face lighting 
up with smiles. 

“There, see that. What did I tell you?” said 
Bridget. 


A Ride on Pegasus. 


105 


Here a stick came sailing in through the open tran- 
som over the kitchen door. 

“Run out quick and catch her,” said Bridget. 

Amy darted down through the laundry, and pounced 
out unexpectedly upon Kitty, who had hid beneath 
the kitchen porch after her last peace-offering. 

“ I ’ve caught you,” said Amy. 

Then they both laughed. 

“ We never thought of such a thing as running 
away from you, Kitty,” said Amy. 

“ But you are always playing with Irene,” said 
Kitty. 

“Well, you know, Kitty, Irene and I both get out 
of school so much earlier than you, I can’t help it.” 

“ Will you promise,” said Kitty, “ always to play 
with me after I get home from school?” 

“ Yes, of course I promise,” said Amy. “ I think 
the best way is for us all three to play together, and 
be good friends. Irene is a very nice girl, don’t you 
think so now, really, Kitty ? ” 

“ Yes, I do,” said Kitty. “ I like her very much 
when she does n’t get you away from me.” 

This ended the trouble ; for Am)r loved Kitty as 
much as Kitty loved her, if she did feel the charm 
of Irene’s gifts and graces. As she told her mother, 
when they were having their bedtime confidences that 
night, — 

“ Of course I can’t help loving Irene, she is so 
bright and pleasant, and she likes to draw, and 
imagine stories, and play dolls, and do everything 
that I do. But Kitty, — why, Kitty is just like my 
own sister.” 

Henceforth, Amy was more careful not to seem to 


106 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


slight the old friend for the new, and the three girls 
were the best of friends. 

Amy, having changed her shoes, came down to 
Bridget with the soiled pair, to find Nurse Nannie 
at the kitchen door, in deep distress. 

“ Miss Amy,” she said, “ have you seen or heard of 
Victor anywhere ? ” 

“ No, Nannie,” said Amy, after thinking a moment. 
“ I have n’t seen him this afternoon. Perhaps he is 
somewhere with Ronald and Jack ; he generally is.” 

“ No, they are playing at home ; and Victor is n’t 
there.” 

“ Perhaps he is playing with Dixon back of Mrs. 
Herndon’s,” said Kitty. 

“No, I have been there. We haven’t seen him 
since school was out. Oh, dear ! Oh, dear ! I know 
that precious darling is lost ! This comes of sending 
him to public school. His father would do it. They 
all think they know better than poor old Nannie, and 
now they see how they come out. Oh, dear! If his 
blessed mother in heaven knew this! I shall never 
see my boy again.” 

And poor old Nannie wrung her hands and cried. 
Every one tried to console her. 

“Don’t cry, Nannie,” said Amy. “We’ll go right 
off and look for him, and I know we shall find him 
somewhere.” 

“ I ’ll run and get Rob and Elliot to help,” said 
Kitty. “I guess he’s just gone home from school 
with some boy. Don’t feel badly, Nannie. We ’ll 
find him for you.” 

While the girls ran to get their mothers’ permission 
to hunt for Victor, Bridget tried to comfort Nannie. 


A Ride on Pegasus. 


107 


“ Now, Nannie,” she said, “ don’t take on so. It 
will all come out right yet. God is good, God is good, 
and ” — here the Irish love of a good story overcame 
Bridget’s piety for a moment — “ and the devil ain’t 
a bad man ayther, as Pat said when he was crossin’ a 
dape brook, and the plank began to break under him, 
and him a wanting to be right with both sides, feeling 
uncertain-like which way he might be going. Be aisy 
in your mind. The boy ’ll turn up all right.” 

“ I shall never lay eyes on that blessed boy again,” 
said Nannie, refusing to be comforted. 

Mr. Dana had, this fall, as one means of weaning 
the boy from Nannie’s apron-strings, sent him to the 
public school, where Ronald, Dixon, in fact, all the 
boys on Hillside Avenue, went. At first Nannie 
wanted to go up to school with him every morning. 

“No,” Mr. Dana had said. “Victor must learn to 
take care of himself sometime, and fight his own 
battles, like other boys ; and he is plenty old enough 
to begin.” 

“Fight his own battles, the poor motherless dar- 
lin’,” Nannie had muttered to herself, but dared make 
no open protest when Mr. Dana had spoken so 
decidedly. 

But when Victor, in his most lordly manner, had 
commanded Nannie to come up every day when school 
was out, and bring his new goat and cart, that he 
might ride home, Nannie had joyfully obeyed. Victor 
had ridden home every night in great state, with 
Nannie for a body-guard to keep off the other boys, 
who might else have torn the goat and cart, not to 
say Victor himself, to pieces, in their determination 
to all ride in the pretty cart. But as soon as Mr. 


108 


Jolly Good Times To-Day . 


Dana discovered this fine plan, he sternly forbade 
Nannie’s taking the goat to school again. Victor had 
been obliged to walk home like the other boys, and 
take his chances among them, and now all Nannie’s 
forebodings were justified. 

Not only Amy, Kitty, Rob, and Elliot hunted about 
for Victor, but Mr. Green joined in the search with 
all his dogs ; but no trace of the missing boy could 
be found. There was great excitement on the avenue, 
and every one was interested, and full of sympathy. 

At first, Miss Grace had thought Nannie needlessly 
alarmed; but when it became plain that Victor was 
nowhere on the avenue, and had not been seen since 
school closed, she too became anxious. She ran over 
to Mrs. Neale’s to consult her. 

“ Perhaps some one has stolen him,” said Mrs. 
Neale. “You know we read so many such things 
in the papers.” 

“ I don’t think any one could entice Victor away,” 
said Miss Grace. “ He has been literally brought up 
by Nannie on the Charlie Ross story. Not long ago, 
that odd-looking old man whom the boys call ‘Nick 
in the Woods,’ who goes around on horseback deliver- 
ing papers, met Victor down at the other end of the 
avenue, and very kindly offered to take him on before 
him, and give him a horseback ride home. As Victor 
is always wild to ride the ponies at the Zoo, I 
said, — 

“ ‘ Of course you accepted such a chance as that.’ 

“ ‘No, indeed,’ said Victor. ‘ I knew very well that 
he only wanted to steal me.’ ” 

“ Suppose you question Ronald a little,” said Mrs. 
Neale. 


A Ride on Pegasus . 109 

“ When did you see Victor last, Ronald ? ” asked 
Miss Grace. 

Ronald hesitated, looked embarrassed, and finally 
said, — 

“ Victor said I mustn’t tell. He said he would 
whip me if I told, but I ’in not afraid of him.” 

“ Ronald, you must tell me everything at once,” 
said Miss Grace, now thoroughly alarmed. 

“ He ’s run away,” said Ronald. 

“ Run away ! Where to ? ” 

“ I know,” broke in Jack, who had been listening 
with big black eyes wide open in his intense interest. 
“ He runned away with Jimmie Peters. I guess they 
runned away into the city, for I saw them get into the 
cars together.” 

“ Don’t tell Nannie, boys,” Miss Grace had the pres- 
ence of mind to say; and then she consulted with 
Mrs. Neale as to what she should do. It was decided 
to telephone at once to Victor’s father. A message 
came back from his office that Mr. Dana had been 
suddenly called out of town, and would not return 
until late at night. Miss Grace felt like wringing her 
hands and wailing with Nannie, but tried to control 
herself, and think what to do next. 

“ You had best telephone George,” said Mrs. Neale, 
— George being Mr. Neale, — “ and haveinm leave an 
exact description of Victor with the chief of police, 
so that the police will be on the look-out for him.” 

Poor Miss Grace, with tears blinding her eyes and 
choking her voice, telephoned, — 

“ Say a boy seven years old, large and strong for 
his age, with large blue eyes, red cheeks, and curly 
yellow hair, wearing a gray knickerbocker suit and 


no 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


blue necktie” — and here Miss Grace broke down. 
The thought came over her, how she had tied that 
blue tie only this morning, and how bright and hand- 
some Victor had looked, as he had thrown his arms 
around her neck and kissed her afterward. Now 
perhaps she should never see him again alive. 

‘‘All right; I’ll go over right away,” Mr. Neale 
had replied ; and later he telephoned that the chief 
would put all the force on the look-out for the miss- 
ing boy. So now there was nothing more to do but 
wait; that was the hardest part. 

Miss Grace sat in the silent house, over which the 
stillness of death seemed already to have settled, so 
unnaturally quiet did it seem without Victor running 
in and out, and listened to the sobs from Nannie’s 
room, where Nannie had taken to her bed, heart- 
broken, and thought of all the lost and stolen boys 
of whom she had ever heard. Never had the hours 
seemed so long. The shades of evening settled slowly 
down. The girl came into the room and lit the gas. 

“ Turn it low, Mary,” said Miss Grace, who sat at 
the window, straining her eyes to peer out into the 
darkness. 

Hark ! what was that ? Some one coming up the 
back stairs ? Surely that was Victor’s step. Miss 
Grace flew to the door in time to see Nannie, with 
tears and cries of joy, clasping in her arms the re- 
turned prodigal. 

A very dirty, tired, sorry-looking little prodigal he 
was. After he had eaten something, and Nannie had 
bathed him, and then, poor soul, gone to bed completely 
exhausted, Victor sat on his Aunt Grace’s lap, safe 
folded in her arms, and told her the whole story. 


A Ride on Pegasus. 


Ill 


One of Mr. Dana’s theories was that it was best for 
Victor to have plenty of spending-money, that he 
might learn by experience the proper use of money. 
That morning, he had happened to have more than 
usual in his pocket. When Jimmie Peters, at recess, 
had tried to outbrag Victor, and Victor in bragging 
back had happened to reveal his wealth, Jimmie had 
struck up a violent friendship then and there for him, 
and had proposed that they run away from school and 
go into the city, and have such a good time as no one 
ever heard of before, spending Victor’s money. 

“ Did n’t you know that it was very, very naughty, 
Victor ? ” 

“ It did n’t sound naughty the way Jimmie put it. He 
said, ‘ Come on, Victor, let ’s have some fun.’ I thought 
it was only fun. He said we ’d get back again before 
any one missed us, and no one would ever know it.” 

“ What did you do in the city, Victor ? Tell auntie 
all about it.” 

" First, we rode on the platform of the car going 
in,” — a much-coveted privilege that Victor was never 
allowed. “ Then Jimmie pretended he was going to 
push me off, and the conductor made us go inside and 
sit down.” 

Aunt Grace mentally thanked the conductor. 

“ When we came to Fountain Square, we walked 
along till we came to a fruit-stand. We bought 
some bananas and ate them ; then we went into a candy 
store and bought some chocolate drops and molasses 
taffy, and ate them, and then we bought some more 
bananas. Then a hand-organ man came along with 
the funniest monkey you ever saw. You just ought 
to have seen him, Aunt Grace. He was all dressed up, 


112 


Jolly Good Times To-Day . 


and the man held him by a string. He let him run a 
little ways, and then pulled him in again. Once he 
ran right up Jimmie’s leg! Jimmie was frightened. 
I would n’t care if he ran up my leg. Then the 
monkey took off his hat, and passed it all around the 
crowd, just like a little boy. I put some pennies in 
his hat. 

“ We followed the hand-organ and monkey a good 
ways, and I put some more pennies in the monkey’s 
hat. By-and-by I felt all around my pockets, and 
there were n’t any more pennies ! Then the hand- 
organ man went into a beer saloon, and I said to 
Jimmie I guessed we had better go home now ; and 
it turned out that Jimmie had n’t any money, and he 
didn’t know where we were, or the way home, or any- 
thing. I began to cry, because it was coming night, 
and I was afraid we were lost, and some one might 
steal us, and we should never get home again. But a 
big policeman came along, and he said, — 

“ * What ’s the matter, sonny ? 9 

“ He took us up to the end of his beat, and told us 
where to go, and so we came home. We had to walk 
all the way, ’cause my pennies were all gone. And 
oh, my legs do ache so, and I ’m so tired, and I feel a 
little sick, too. Jimmie said his father would thrash 
him when he got home, and he guessed we had better 
run away for good, now we had started, and never go 
home at all ; but I wanted to come home, if papa did 
whip me.” 

“Your father will not whip you, Victor,” said Aunt 
Grace ; “ but he will be very sorry and unhappy that 
his little boy has done such a naughty thing.” 

“I ’ll never run away again, Aunt Grace, if Jimmie 


A Ride on Pegasus. 


113 


Peters teases me ever so hard,” said Victor, his eyes 
shutting together as he leaned his head against his 
aunt, already half asleep. 

Miss Grace postponed all further talk, or possible 
discipline, and hurried the weary little prodigal into 
bed. 

“ I ’m glad I ’m in my own bed to-night,” said Vic- 
tor, as Aunt Grace tucked him in, and kissed him 
good-night. He rolled over, and was fast asleep be- 
fore she could turn the gas out. 

Mr. Green, whom Mrs. Strong called the “Hillside 
Avenue Gazette,” because he bore the news of the 
neighborhood happenings from one house to another 
on the street, dropped into one kitchen after another 
during the evening, to spread the glad news of Victor’s 
safe return, and all felt safer about their own chil- 
dren because the little boy was under his own roof 
again. 

That evening Amy read again Hawthorne’s beauti- 
ful story of “The Ghimaera.” 

“ Do you know what that story means, Amy ? ” asked 
her mother. 

“I’m not certain,” said Amy, “though I think I 
have an idea. What is it ? ” 

“Pegasus is supposed to be the horse on which 
poets take their flights. The poets are supposed to 
drink inspiration from the Pierian spring, and soar 
aloft on Pegasus. Hence their flights are so much 
higher than those of ordinary mortals.” 

“ What a pretty idea ! ” said Amy. “ I mean to be 
a poet by-and-by. I have made some little trips on 
Pegasus, have n’t I, mamma ? ” 

“Your Pegasus is such a small colt,” said her 
8 


114 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


mother, laughing, u that it is hard to tell yet whether 
he will grow into a real Pegasus or not.” 

“ My poetry rhymes much better than it used to, 
anyway. My last poem is n’t so very bad, now, really, 
mamma. You needn’t laugh. Kitty and Irene think 
it is beautiful.” 

“ Let me see it,” said her mother. 

From a mass of drawings, stories, blocks, and origi- 
nal plays, that crammed the drawer in the library 
table sacred to her own use, Amy brought forth the 
poem. It was called — 

My Doggie. 

When I was a little girl, 

A long time ago, 

I had a little doggie, 

And his name was Flo. 

His coat was of a curly brown, 

A curly, silky brown ; 

And he filled with admiration 
All the people of the town. 

Whene’er I went out walking 
With my little doggie Flo, 

It set the people talking, 

For he wore a ribbon bow, 

And a little, little bell, 

That went tinkle, tinkle, tink, 

And made my little doggie 
Woggie wink, wink, wink! 

Each stanza was illustrated at the end with a 
painting of the little girl and her doggie, the ribbon 
bow, the children filled with admiration, etc. 


A Ride on Pegasus. 


115 


“ T wish that poem were true,” said Amy. “ I do 
want a dog so much. I have no pet but Prince. 
Won’t you get me a dog, papa ? ” 

“ I ’ll see about it,” said the professor, to w r hom 
his wife had handed the “ poem,” and who was read- 
ing it with an amused twinkle of his eye. 

“ Of course, ‘ woggie ’ does n’t mean anything,” ex- 
plained Amy. “ I had to put it in to make the poetry 
come out even, you see.” 

“ Yes, I see. Poetical license, I suppose,” said her 
father. “I’ve often noticed the same thing in 
grown-up poetry.” 

Then observing that Amy, her eyes shining and 
cheeks glowing, had seized a block of paper and pen- 
cil, and was briskly scribbling, he said, — 

“ The best place for poets of your age, my child, 
is bed. Jump down from Pegasus, and scamper 
upstairs.” 

“ Oh, papa, I have thought of such a lovely idea 
for an illustrated poem !” 

“To bed, to bed,” said her father, relentlessly. 
“This is no time for ideas.” 

And to bed the would-be poetess had to go, consol- 
ing herself as she went to sleep by making up another 
chapter in “ The Distressed Princess,” — a continued 
story with which, night after night, she was beguil- 
ing the sorrows of having to leave the delights of the 
library below. 


116 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


CHAPTER IX. 


LOST, STRAYED, OR STOLEN. 

HE next excitement on Hillside Avenue was the 



i mysterious disappearance of Comet, Miss Rose 
Carman’s St. Bernard dog. Comet was an immense 
fellow, as kind and good-natured as he was big. He 
bore tolerantly tricks of smaller dogs that he could 
easily have shaken to death with one grip of his 
great jaws ; and he allowed Elliot to pull him around 
and take all sorts of liberties with him. He had 
been given to Miss Rose by a young gentleman who 
was a dog fancier ; and with him came a long pedigree, 
showing that his ancestors were dogs of high degree, 
in the habit of taking prizes at Bench shows. He 
was very valuable ; and when he was found to havo 
disappeared, every one except Grandma Gaylord 
was sure he had been stolen to be sold, and freely 
prophesied that Miss Rose would never see her 
huge pet again. 

Grandma Gaylord’s theory was that a gang of des- 
perate burglars had stolen or poisoned him, with the 
express object of entering the Carmans’ house at mid- 
night and murdering and robbing the inmates. After 
hearing this theory, Amy was afraid to go to bed 
alone for some time. 

It had been a pleasant sight to see pretty Miss 
Rose, whom every one loved and admired, strolling 
along the avenue, escorted by her immense pet. When 


Lost , Strayed , or Stolen. 


117 


she went into a house to call, he lay patiently on the 
porch waiting for her, to the terror of all the people 
who had soap, thread, and the other necessities of life 
to sell. When his mistress came out. Comet mani- 
fested his joy by jumping up on her, nearly knocking 
her over, and galloping around her in uncouth gam- 
bols, “like a great cow,” as Miss Rose said, laughing. 

“It looks just like a picture,” old Mrs. Wigsley 
was wont to say, as she stood at the window watching 
the progress of the group down the street. Every one 
was sorry for Miss Rose, and tried to help her find her 
dog in vain. The last seen on the avenue of Comet, 
he had rambled olf, as was often his custom, in the 
train of Mr. Green and his dogs. Mr. Green, on 
being examined, said, — 

“ I dunno whar he did go to. I was at Mrs. 
McGrau’s, shovelling coal, and then I ’lowed to go 
over to Mrs. Goldschmidt’s and clean a carpet. I 
disremember when he did clar out. I spect someun 
done gone and stole that dog. There ’s lots o’ worth- 
less trash up to jest sech mean tricks.” 

No one thought for an instant of suspecting Mr. 
Green. They would as soon have thought of sus- 
pecting Dr. Taylor himself. 

Miss Rose advertised the dog in all the papers, 
offering five dollars’ reward. In a day or two a 
shabby, sly-looking man appeared, bringing Comet, 
and telling a long, disjointed tale about a “ friend ” 
of his having found the dog over in Oak Grove. 
This excellent man, reading the description, recog- 
nized it at once as that of the dog his friend had 
found ; but the friend would not relinquish the dog 
without he would pay him a dollar. 


118 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


Miss Rose, without stopping to sift this tale too 
closely for facts, cheerfully paid the six dollars, and 
great care was henceforth taken to keep Comet at 
home. 

The Brightside Club and the Other Club continued 
to hold their regular meetings. Mrs. Herndon had 
given each of the members, in memory of Ned, a Bright- 
side pin to wear, — a silver Maltese cross bearing the 
letters “I. H. N.” The children did not become 
angels all at once ; but perhaps they were now and 
then reminded to do some little kindnesses, or prac- 
tise some self-restraint that otherwise they might not 
have thought of. 

Bryant Taylor was slowly recovering from a severe 
attack of typhoid fever. Amy liked Bryant and felt 
very sorry for him, and thought it would be a Bright- 
side-like thing to do to write to him often funny 
letters, telling all about the sport the children were 
having, the letters being illustrated with highly col- 
ored pictures. These letters were quite an event in 
the weary sick-room, and helped shorten the long 
tedious days of recovery for Bryant. 

After Mrs. Humphreys died, Amy and Kitty took 
some of their own money, went to the greenhouse, and 
bought flowers to put in Miss Sadie Humphreys’ 
parlor, that there might be one bit of brightness 
there when she and her father came back from the 
sad journey to Massachusetts, where they had taken 
Mrs. Humphreys’ body to rest amid the scenes of 
her childhood. 

“ The dear children ! How sweet and thoughtful 
of them ! ” said Miss Sadie, the tears in her eyes 
blurring the colors of the lovely flowers whose bloom 


Lost, Strayed, or Stolen. 


119 


and fragrance, and, above all, the loving thought they 
represented, did brighten a little the empty, desolate 
house, where “ mother ” would nevermore come. 

And one day, when Rob had Van Gooding down, 
and was about to “ give him what he deserved,” sud- 
denly it occurred to him that this was not exactly 
the thing for the members of Brightside clubs, and 
he let Van up, saying, — 

•'‘You can go now. I’ve shown that I can whip 
you if I ’ve a mind to.” 

“ Ho ! let ’s see you do it, though,” shouted Van, 
jeeringly, but careful to keep at safe running distance. 

The club, at its meeting early in November, had 
decided after much discussion that it would be pleas- 
ant to do something for the Colored Orphans for 
Christmas. Mrs. Strong had strongly advocated the 
cause of the orphans. 

“ In the first place,” she said, “ the Colored Orphans 
are our neighbors.” 

The Colored Orphan Asylum was on Brook Street, 
— a street which zigzagged off across the hills to Oak 
Grove, directly behind Hillside Avenue. The land 
on Brook Street had once been the farm of an old 
Quaker, said to be the original of Simeon Halliday in 
“ Uncle Tom’s Cabin.” Certain it is that at the time 
when Mrs. Stowe was living at Lane Seminary, and 
gathering, unconsciously, the material for that book, 
this old Quaker’s house was one of the first stations on 
the underground railroad for dark-skinned fugitives 
from the Kentucky shore. From time to time he 
had sold small sections of his farm to negroes, until 
Brook Street had become largely a negro settlement. 
There was a little Baptist church there, from whose 


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summer evening meetings the quaint, shouting, chant- 
ing melodies often resounded with not unpleasant 
effect over to Hillside Avenue ; and here also was the 
Colored Orphan Asylum. 

Mrs. Strong continued her plea, — 

“ In the next place, the Colored Orphans are not a 
fashionable charity. There is a fashion in charities, 
as in all else. The institution is very poor ; and there 
is no place that needs help more, or where it is more 
thankfully received. I was over there yesterday. 
There are forty children there now, and the super- 
intendent said anything we could do for them to 
help give the children a Christmas would be most 
acceptable.” 

"I know that my mother will give things for 
them,” said Ben Bruce, confidently. 

“Of course she will,” said Mrs. Strong, for Mrs. 
Bruce was one of those people, none too common, 
whom her friends were actually afraid to approach 
with an appeal for charity, not from the usual reason, 
but because it was well known that she would cheer- 
fully rob herself and almost take the clothes off the 
backs of her own family, so generous, so sympathetic 
was she, so filled with a longing to help the unfortunate 
ones of this earth. 

The children decided to collect all the cast-off 
clothing they could, and also to bring in toys, games, 
and books from their own stores. 

“ If each only brings two things,” said Mrs. Strong, 
“you will have quite a collection. But probably you 
will get much more than that.” 

On hearing of the club’s plan, Miss Bose and Miss 
Sadie said they would contribute candy enough to 


Lost, Strayed, or Stolen. 


121 


fill forty candy-bags, and help the girls make the 
bags ; and Miss Maude Clover, Kitty’s big sister, and 
the Misses Brownell offered to dress some dolls. The 
girls immediately decided to have a sewing-society 
every Saturday till Christmas. 

The Other Club graciously accepted an invitation to 
join in the scheme, and were stoutly determined to 
beat the Brightsiders by bringing in the largest collec- 
tion of gifts for the orphans ; so the strife in good 
works ran high on Hillside Avenue about that time. 
Thanksgiving Day some of the mothers sent over to 
their neighbors, the Colored Orphans, turkeys, vege- 
tables, etc. 

Toward night, Thanksgiving Day, Kitty, feeling 
the need of taking a long walk to help digest an 
abundant dinner, called for Amy and Irene, who 
gladly joined her. Duke was also of the party, and 
Nixie was anxious to go, but Miss Zelia would not 
trust him off the avenue. The girls were going to 
walk over on Brook Street, in the hope that they 
might chance to see some of the Colored Orphans, 
who had suddenly become such objects of interest to 
the Hillside Avenue children. Brook Street lay 
high, and was naturally one of the best situations in 
the vicinity. There were pleasant views from its 
summits, and it was interesting to get a back view of 
their own homes from its heights. So the girls set 
forth gayly for Brook Street. 

Apparently every family on Brook Street kept a 1 
dog, that did not keep two. Dogs of every known 
size and sort began to collect around the party, mani- 
festing a most alarming interest in Duke, as a stranger 
in those parts. Duke, the most amiable and affection- 


122 


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ate of dogs, had not “ a bit of fight in him,” as Rob 
sometimes said, disgusted. He would even turn tail 
and run for Prince, Amy’s cat. Prince knew her 
power, and did not hesitate to bristle up and dive at 
Duke, if he presumed to so much as set a foot on the 
Strongs’ porch when she was out there. 

“ Go home, sir ! ” cried Kitty, sternly, at the sur- 
rounding dogs. 

But although she stamped her foot, and although 
Irene and Amy joined her, the strange dogs were 
not in the least terrified. Their leader, a peculiarly 
vicious-looking black dog, with one ear mostly torn off 
in former frays, made a sudden onslaught on Duke. 
Duke ran so fast he looked, as Kitty said, “ like a 
brown streak on the ground,” disappearing around the 
next turn, closely followed by the crew of mongrel 
dogs. 

“ Oh, they will kill him ! ” cried Kitty. 

“Ho, they won’t,” said Irene, “for here they come 
now.” 

The dogs were indeed returning, consoling them- 
selves by small fights among themselves along the 
way, and by chasing the chickens which also abounded 
on Brook Street. The girls ran on around the corner, 
half expecting to find Duke’s slaughtered remains 
lying somewhere about. But he was nowhere to be 
seen ; and although they called “ Duke ! Duke ! come 
here, sir,” until they were tired, no Duke appeared. 

“ Dear me ! ” said Kitty, “ what shall I do ? I am 
afraid he is lost, and we shall never see him again.” 

“Perhaps he will run home across lots,” said 
Amy. “ Dogs know their way everywhere better than 
people.” 


Lost , Strayed , or Stolen. 


123 


“ Perhaps we shall find him at home when we get 
there,” said Irene. 

The girls hurried home, but no Duke was there, nor 
did he appear next day, nor the next. 

Rob, who loved Duke like a brother, even if he 
would not fight, was certain he had been stolen, like 
Comet. 

“ Duke is not quite so valuable as Comet,” said his 
father. 

“ But may n’t I offer a reward, father ? ” said Rob, 
firm in his belief that some one had stolen his pre- 
cious dog. 

“ Yes,” said his father, laughing. 

Rob wrote several notices, in his best hand-writing, 
with flourishing capitals and much under-scoring ; and 
Elliot went with him and helped tack them up, so 
that one might read on all the biggest tree-trunks 
on Hillside Avenue, and around the corner on Grand 
Avenue, these words, — 

LOST ! ! ! 

an Irish Setter Dog of a Red Color, with a White spot on 
his Neck. Had on a colar with a Blue Ribbin Bow tied 
to it. 

Five Dollars Reward ! ! 
will be payed on his Return. 

P. Q. Clover, Esq., 
Hillside Avenue, Edgeton. 

Two days passed, but even this notice brought no 
news of the missing Duke. Lonely enough did it 
seem without the old fellow. There was no Duke 
waiting, when school was out, to welcome Rob and 
Kitty with eager barkings and bouncings, no Duke to 


124 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


run and join in all the games ; and at night an un- 
natural silence reigned. 

“ I should be really glad to hear poor Duke howl 
and moan again if he would only come back/’ said 
Amy. 

Even Bridget “ spoke kindly of the absent one/’ 
and admitted that he had some virtues. 

Bob began to question whether he ought not to raise 
the amount of the reward. 

One night, as the Strongs were all peacefully read- 
ing by the library lamp, suddenly there was a violent 
peal of the door-bell, which seemed to indicate press- 
ing business of unusual importance. 

“ It is a telegram from one of the boys. Something 
has happened,” said Mrs. Strong, prepared for the 
worst. 

But it proved to be only Bob Clover, who burst in, 
all excitement, shouting, — 

“ Amy, Duke ’s come home ! ” 

“ Oh, has he ? ” asked Amy, dropping her book, 
as excited as Bob himself. 

“ Yes. When Paul brought over the milk to-night, 
there was Duke by the kitchen steps. He acted as 
if he were too tired to go up the steps, but Paul helped 
him. He is awful thin. I think that some one has 
had him shut up, and starved him, and that Duke 
managed to get out and run away home.” 

“ May 1 go over to Kitty’s a little while, mamma ? ” 
asked Amy. 

Her mother consenting, Amy ran back with Bob, 
to help welcome Duke back to the bosom of his 
family, for she loved him almost as much as the 
Clovers themselves did. 


Lost , Strayed , or Stolen. 


125 


When she came home she had a long story to tell, — 

“You never saw any one look as poor Duke did, 
so thin and dirty, and covered with burrs, every inch 
of him, and all that beautiful long silky hair on his 
legs and tail nearly pulled off. We went to picking off 
the burrs. Rob took his tail, Kitty took one leg, 
and I another. Miss Maude took another, and Mrs. 
Clover took his head, because his silky ears were the 
worst ; they were stuck close to his head. 

“ Then we gave him a bath, and combed him, and 
dried him. Then Rob took him out in the kitchen, 
and gave him a whole platter of meat. He ate, and 
ate, and ate, and ate, and ate ; and then he drank, 
and drank, and drank, — three cups full. Then he 
lay down in the library, and we all sat at his feet. 
He was wild with joy to be at home again. If one of 
us started to go away, he would put his paws on us 
and hold us back. He was so tired he could hardly 
stand. Kitty held him in her lap to rest him ; and 
Rob held his head, because he is too long for Kitty’s 
lap. I could n’t help thinking of those verses in the 
Bible, ‘ He was lost and is found ; he was dead and is 
alive again.’ Duke is a kind of a prodigal son too, 
is n’t he, mamma ? ” 

“His home-coming seems much like it,” said her 
mother. 


126 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


CHAPTER X. 

DRAMATIC. 

A MY being of a highly nervous and excitable tem- 
perament, Mrs. Strong had never felt it wise 
to take her often to the theatre. Twice only, on 
special occasions, had she been allowed to go; and 
once, long ago, she had the delight of hearing “ Pina- 
fore,” when it was given by a summer theatrical 
company at the “ Zoo,” as the Zoological Gardens are 
always called in Cincinnati. 

This performance had been particularly amusing. 
A structure looking like a real ship was built in the 
lake devoted to aquatic birds. Tiers of seats for the 
spectators were erected on the shore, facing the ship, 
and protected from the intense heat of the summer 
sun by an awning. Amy was thrilled with excite- 
ment when the Admiral, in full uniform, was rowed 
out to the ship by his sailors, going aboard with much 
naval state and dignity. Little Buttercup put out 
from the shore too, amid the loud quackings of the 
ducks and geese, who knew not what to think of these 
strange intruders, while the cranes and storks stalked 
up and down the shore in wild-eyed dismay, as the 
music of chorus and orchestra resounded through their 
solitudes. It was so extremely warm on the unshaded 
water that Ralph had been glad to borrow the um- 
brella which Josephine carried, while he sang his 
solo. It was all most delightful to Amy, and was 


Dramatic. 


127 


often re-acted at home, with dolls for the leading 
characters, Amy doing the singing for all. 

Amy had a strong taste for acting. Her lively 
imagination often found pleasure in “ dressing up ” 
and “ being somebody,” usually some one of high de- 
gree, — a princess, or a fairy queen, or the Countess 
Spirendoff, a favorite character, founded on a real 
lady of that name, at whose regal mansion Philip and 
Gladys had been royally entertained during a recent 
concert tour in Russia. The accounts of this trip 
through Russia, which Philip had written home, had 
not only filled Amy with delight, but had given her 
many valuable points on the private habits of princes, 
countesses, the (t nobility and gentry” generally. It 
was another strong bond to Irene, when she secretly 
confided to Amy her passion for acting, and her high 
resolve to be an actress when she grew up. Irene 
was writing a play now, called “ The Three Prin- 
cesses.” Amy immediately began one called “ The 
Witch’s Curse.” 

While the dramatic fever was thus raging, Joseph 
Jefferson and his company came to Cincinnati. 
Whenever Amy had begged to go to the theatre, 
as she often did, she had always been told, — 

“ Whenever Jefferson plays here again, you shall 
go. If you go to the theatre at all, I want you to 
see the best.” 

Amy was not slow in reminding her mother of this 
promise ; and accordingly Professor Strong bought 
tickets for the Saturday matinee of “ The Rivals.” 
Irene beset her mother to go, using the unanswerable 
argument that Amy was going, and therefore she 
must, to which argument Mrs. Brownell yielded. 


128 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


It was an afternoon the two girls did not soon for- 
get. The theatre was crowded with a fine-looking 
audience. Jefferson played Bob Acres, Florence 
was Sir Lucius O’ Trigger, and Mrs. Drew Mrs. 
Malaprop ; and the fun and brightness of both play 
and acting were irresistible. Amy appreciated all 
the bright points of the play as quickly and keenly 
as any grown person present. She laughed until she 
thought she could laugh no more. More than one 
stranger sitting near smiled in sympathy, as they 
looked at the little girl with the broad black beaver 
hat resting on her flowing golden hair, whose eyes 
shone so with delight, whose mirth was so contagious, 
and who threatened to burst her gloves in the rap- 
ture of her applause. 

But Amy was unconscious of all on-lookers. She 
was wholly absorbed in the play. It seemed pain- 
fully tame and prosaic to come down out of it all, 
from the brilliancy and warmth of the cosy theatre, 
into the cold, every-day light of the common street, 
where electric car-bells were clanging and newsboys 
calling, and the crowd hurrying on as if the delight- 
ful, wonderful old world of “ The Rivals,” where 
people wore powdered wigs and knee-breeches, and 
trains and stomachers and petticoats, and called 
each other “Sir 99 and “ Madam,” did not exist. 

All the way home in the car, while her mother was 
talking with Mrs. Dawson about the weather, and 
Mrs. Bruce’s essay at the club meeting, and the last 
heresy trial, Amy saw only the world of romance in 
which she had been living. Irene came in at once to 
talk it over with her. 

“ Was n’t it j>erfectly splendid ? ” said Amy. 


Dramatic. 


129 


“I enjoyed it excessively,” said Irene. “How I 
should love to act Lydia Languish ! ” 

This going to the play gave a new impulse to the 
dramatic fever. Amy and Irene had no trouble in 
getting up a dramatic club among the other girls, 
who were all charmed with the idea. There were 
not only Kitty and Laura, and Frida Goldschmidt, 
who, it is true, was a little younger (two years is 
such a yawning gulf when you are twelve years old), 
but who, it was felt, could be used to good advantage, 
but also Frida’s friend, Dorothy Paxton, from the 
other end of the avenue ; while little Lulu Boyd, 
Claribel, Phyllis, and the two little Goldschmidts 
would serve nicely as maids, villagers, and “the 
chorus ” generally. Then, fortunately, Mrs. Frazier’s 
niece Janet had come to spend a year with her aunt 
and attend school, which gave another girl to the 
avenue. Janet was only too glad to join the new club, 
and would make a valuable member. Dorothy Pax- 
ton wanted to ask her particular friend, May Morgan, 
daughter of Judge Morgan, who lived on Grand 
Avenue. The other girls did not know May very 
well ; but it did not take them long to get acquainted, 
for May was a wide-awake young lady, who entered 
into the doings of the club with great spirit. 

The club was much agitated on the question of the 
admission of the boys. 

“ They would never learn their parts, I know,” said 
Kitty. 

“And they would be sure to make fun of us,” 
said May, who had three brothers, and spoke from 
experience. 

“Then they cannot belong,” said Irene, decidedly; 

9 


130 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


“ but we can allow them to attend the performances 
sometimes, if they will behave properly and not 
bother us.” 

Irene drove “ The Three Princesses ” through to a 
hasty conclusion. The play was given in the Brown- 
ells’ back parlor, the audience occupying reserved 
seats in the front parlor. 

The three princesses were sisters who ruled over 
the countries of Japan, Greece, and Italy. Irene was 
the Princess of Japan, because she had a complete 
Japanese costume, even to the shoes, which her father 
had brought her home from Japan. Indeed, the play 
had been written expressly to fit this costume. Ar- 
rayed in it, with her hair done up in Japanese fashion, 
with long Japanese hair-pins, and waving a Japanese 
fan, Irene made a quaint and pretty little princess, 
looking not unlike the lady on her fan. 

Amy was the Princess of Greece. She liked this 
much, because, as she told her mother, — 

“ I can wear a full Grecian costume, and it is so 
poetical. ” 

The full Grecian costume consisted of a white skirt 
of Mrs. Strong’s that trailed on the floor all any one 
could ask, over which was gracefully draped a sheet, 
leaving Amy’s arms bare. Her arms were covered 
with silver bangles, borrowed of Miss Maude and the 
Misses Brownell, who had good-naturedly helped the 
little girls. Her hair was twisted up in a Psyche 
knot behind, and bound with bandeaux of white glass 
“ pearls ; ” and she looked exactly like a graceful 
Grecian maiden of old, as nearly as the audience 
could judge. 

Kitty, as the Princess of Italy, shone forth in an 


Dramatic. 


131 


old pink silk party dress of her sister Maude’s. Her 
hair was twisted on top of her head, fastened with 
all Maude’s hat-pins. Her appearance was greatly 
admired by every one, including herself. 

Frida, as maid of honor to the Princess of Japan, 
wore a white dress, and the typical waiting-maid’s 
cap. 

The plot was simple. It seemed that the Princesses 
of Greece and Italy were the wicked sisters of the 
Princess of Japan. Devoured with envy and hatred 
on account of her superior beauty, they had laid a 
plot to induce her to flee the country. The maid of 
honor — concealed behind a Japanese screen, in full 
view of the audience — overheard this plot, which 
was couched in the most melodramatic language. 
The conspirators were to tell the Princess that the 
Mikado, whom she abhorred, enamoured of her charms, 
had determined to carry her off and marry her. It 
was expected that she would then flee the country, 
never to return, leaving the wicked sisters in power. 
The maid of honor of course hastened to reveal this 
plot to her mistress, who was seen reclining with 
more than oriental languor among the cushions of 
a lounge, and who, all through the play, was more 
haughty than any one could imagine. 

In the second act, the Princess appeared with all 
the majesty possible, considering that her Japanese 
shoes, held on only by a ribbon, flopped up and down 
as she walked, threatening every instant to drop off. 
The wicked sisters kissed her hand hypocritically, 
and then the Princess of Greece burst forth, — 

“ Oh, sister, I have something terrible to tell 
you ! ” 


132 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


“ What is it ? ” asked the Princess of Japan, with 
much haughty superiority of manner. 

“ Oh, I cannot bear to tell it ! It is too horrible ! 
You tell her, sister. Break it gently ; ” and Amy 
covered her eyes with her hands, and fell back among 
the lounge cushions, overcome by her feelings. The 
Princess of Japan now turned to the Princess of Italy 
for the dreadf tidings, who, forgetting her part, came in 
with a later line, and amazed the audience by saying, — 
“ Sister, you are as fair as a rose ! ” 

Amy sat bolt upright; and she and Irene stared 
aghast at each other, not knowing what to do. Then, 
as Amy said afterward, in describing the scene to 
her mother, — 

“Irene laughed a laugh of haughty scorn, and I 
said, — 

“ 1 And therefore the Mikado is determined to marry 
you.’ So we got out of it very well. ” 

In the last scene, the Princess summoned her 
sisters, and told them that she “ knew all. ” They 
fell on their knees before her, with clasped hands 
raised (displaying the bangles splendidly), implor- 
ing forgiveness, which was graciously granted; and 
the portieres were run rapidly together by Rob and 
Elliot amid the loudest applause from the audience. 

“ The Witch’s Curse ” was enacted later, in the 
upper room of the Strongs’ stable. There was a prince 
(Kitty), in love with a gypsy maiden (Amy), a prin- 
cess (Irene), in love w T ith the prince and naturally 
hating the gypsy maiden, and a wicked witch (Frida), 
who aided the princess in all her plots against the 
humble but unspeakably beautiful gypsy maiden. 
The wicked princess drank by mistake from the 


Dramatic. 


133 


poisoned goblet prepared by the witch for the destruc- 
tion of the gypsy maiden, and tumbled headfirst 
upon the Strongs’ old cot bed, dying in the most 
approved theatrical manner, to the intense gratifica- 
tion of all the audience except Lulu Boyd’s little 
brother, Lenny, who was frightened and cried, and 
could only be comforted by having a ride on Amy’s 
old rocking-horse, which figured as a spirited steed 
in all dramas where a horse was needed. 

The play, begun after school, lasted so late that 
the shades of night began to fall before it was fin- 
ished; and Mrs. Strong had to go out with a lantern 
and light the children down the steep stairs 'and over 
the kindling pile, they all saying, — 

“ Oh, Amy, we have had such a lovely time ! The 
play was beautiful.” 

Encouraged by these successes, the “ Hillside Ave- 
nue Dramatic Club” now ventured on a real play, 
the farce, “My Turn Next.” This play was to be 
given in the upstairs room of the Clovers’ stable. 
Now an unlooked-for difficulty arose. Rob, who was 
excluded from the fun, said, — 

“I won’t have my armory used for a theatre. My 
guns have to stay there ; and, besides, we boys want to 
drill up there right away.” 

“ We will go ahead,” said Kitty to the girls, “ and 
not pay any attention to Rob. As if I and my friends 
hadn’t just as good a right to this stable as Rob and 
his friends ! ” 

The rehearsals began, but were much hindered by 
the persecutions of Rob, who made frequent appear- 
ances at most unexpected moments up the grain-shoot 
back of the stage, mocking the actors, and mimicking 
their words, to which he had been listening. 


134 Jolly Good Times To-Day. 

This was intolerable. One Saturday morning, when 
the girls had spent most of their time making raids 
on Rob and driving him away, only to have him turn 
up afresh in some new spot, Kitty said, — 

“I will not stand your actions any longer, Rob 
Clover. I’m going right in to tell mamma of you, 
so now.’ , 

“ I don’t care,” said Rob. “ It won’t do you any 
good, for mamma promised me I might have my 
armory up there.” 

The case was laid before Mrs. Clover, who poured 
oil on the troubled waters by persuading Rob to let 
the girls have his armory, on condition that he was 
admitted to the play. As soon as he was a partner, 
and working for the girls instead of against them, 
Rob proved invaluable. He ran around and did all 
the girls’ errands, and made himself so useful, carry- 
ing up boards from the stable below and placing them 
across chairs and boxes for seats, that he was allowed 
to ask his friend Elliot to see the play ; but all the 
older boys were sternly excluded. 

Dixon, Ronald, Jack, Victor, and Oscar Stevens 
were also allowed to come. They, with Claribel, 
Phyllis, and all the little girls of the avenue, Nannie, 
and one or two other nurses with the baby brothers 
and sisters, and a mother or two, made an audience 
that literally “ packed the house,” and even cracked 
the board seats, at least at the end where Mrs. 
Goldschmidt was seated. 

The audience could not sufficiently admire the ap- 
pearance of the actors. Red crayon and burnt cork 
had not been spared. Irene, Kitty, and May Morgan, 
who took the men’s parts, looked really ferocious 


Dramatic. 


135 


with their faces reddened all over, so that the whites 
of their eyes gleamed out with startling distinctness, 
with strongly corked eyebrows and huge corked 
mustaches curling fiercely up each round, smooth 
cheek. Amy, the leading lady, with violently hectic 
red spots in the centre of each cheek, corked eye- 
brows, and dark circles under each eye, which Irene 
had told her were necessary on the stage, looked as 
if in the last stages of consumption, an old brown 
“ switch ” of her mother’s, worn as a wig, hiding her 
own hair, completing the effect. 

“ I never should know the child, never,” said Mrs. 
Strong, while Mrs. Goldschmidt laughed so hard at 
Frida’s red nose, as “Peggy,” that the board cracked 
again. 

The younger portion of the audience thought these 
startling effects simply wonderful. The play went 
off with great applause. Paul, Ben, Van, Fred, and 
others of the older boys added to the enjoyment of 
those so lucky as to be admitted by hanging around 
the stable, throwing sticks up against the little door 
of the “armory,” making loud, derisive remarks, such 
as “ Ho ! a great play that is,” and otherwise showed 
their lofty scorn of the whole thing. 

But after the play was over, when the girls had 
resumed their own dresses, and washed off some of 
the burnt cork and red crayon, the boys condescended 
to stay and have a game of “ I spy ” with them, for 
which game the Clovers’ stable, with the outlying 
facilities of the grape arbor, the hollow, the big elms, 
and the adjoining stables of the Strongs and the 
McGraus, was known to be the best spot on the 
avenue. 


136 


Jolly Good Times To-Day . 


CHAPTER XI. 


CHRISTMAS SHOPPING. 


OMING- EVENTS ” cast their shadows a long 



way before on Hillside Avenue, as Christmas 
drew near. There began to be a subdued excitement 
among the children at least a month before that all- 
important day. Many of them took the precaution 
to write notes to Santa Claus, mentioning exactly 
what they needed, or rather, wanted, — a great help to 
Santa Claus, no doubt, at a season when he has so 
much on his mind. Some of the younger children 
sent their notes directly to Santa Claus Land, via the 
fireplace, among them, Jack and Phyllis. 

As the strong draught from the fire below seized 
Jack’s note, and whirled it, unburned, up the chim- 
ney’s black throat, he and little Phjdlis, on their 
hands and knees, watched its disappearance with 
great satisfaction. 

“ Santa Claus will get that letter, won’t he, J ack ? ” 
said Phyllis, in .undoubting faith, her dark curls hang- 
ing down as she bent her pretty head to peep up the 
chimney. 

“Yes; it’s gone right up there,” said Jack, half 
expecting to catch, as he peered up, a glimpse of 
Santa Claus’s huge hand seizing the important letter. 

Amy was careful to leave her missive on the 
library table, where her mother would be sure to find 


Christmas Shopping. 


137 


it. Mrs. Strong smiled as she picked up, after Amy 
had gone to bed, the letter addressed to — 

“Mr. S. Claus, 

“Chimney Land, 

“ U. S. A.,” 

with a postage stamp bearing the head of Santa Claus 
in one corner, painted by Amy. 

Within there was a modest list of thirty-five arti- 
cles, beginning with “ Sense and Sensibility ” and 
“ Persuasion,” the only ones of Jane Austen’s novels 
that Amy had not read, the list including a pony and 
cart, a few coffee-spoons, fancy writing-paper, cologne, 
candy, a “ safety,” a “ new muff to match my boa,” a 
drawing-tablet, a box of French prunes, a camera, 
books, a “ clock for my room,” a telescope, a micro- 
scope, a kaleidoscope, a pet dog, a “new, big sled,” 
“ more books,” a gold pen, and so on, the list ending 
with, “No. 35. Anything nice,” and this closing 
appeal, — 

“ Now, Mr. Santa Claus, I truly want all these things, so 
you need not laugh, 

“ Respectfully, 

“ Amy Strong.” 

Amy, Kitty, and Irene were all making presents for 
each other. These presents were profound secrets, 
often alluded to with the greatest mystery ; and dark 
hints were frequently thrown out by way of keeping 
the secret more securely. 

“ I ’m making something for you, Irene,” said Kitty. 
“ Don’t you wish you knew what it was ? ” 


138 Jolly Good Times To-Day . 

“ Oh, yes, indeed. Do tell me, Kitty.” 

“ Oh, I can’t possibly,” said Kitty. “ Amy knows, 
don’t you, Amy ? ” 

“ Yes; and it’s perfectly lovely, I think,” said Amy. 
“You ought to see it, Irene.” 

“ It ’s in this towel,” said Kitty, who had hastily 
bundled up her work when Irene entered the room 
where she and Amy were working. 

Then Irene chased Kitty round and round the table 
in a vain attempt to peep within the towel’s myste- 
rious folds. Finally Kitty said, — 

“If you won’t chase me any more, Irene, I will 
show you what I made for Amy. Come upstairs. 
You must stay here, Amy.” 

“ No ; I ’m coming too,” said Amy, pursuing the girls 
upstairs, where Kitty arrived in season to lock the 
door against her, and then, with mysterious whispers, 
showed an embroidered tidy to Irene, quite forgetting 
that she had told her only the day before that her 
present and Amy’s were just alike. 

Another day, Amy took Kitty up to her room to 
see the drawer full of presents she had been making. 
She said, — 

“ You must stay outside, Kitty, until I take some- 
thing out of the drawer. Promise you won’t peep.” 

“ I won’t,” said Kitty, sorely tempted, though, as 
she heard Amy smuggle something hastily into her 
closet and lock the door. 

“ Now you may come,” said Amy, proudly display- 
ing a drawer full of pretty gifts, mostly painted ar- 
ticles, all her own work and design. When Kitty 
found that there was a painted calendar for Irene, 
and another for Laura, it did not need the wisdom of 


Christmas Shopping. 


139 


Solomon for her to guess that a calendar was also 
coming to her ; for Amy’s Christmas gifts were apt 
to run in waves. One year they were all scent-bags ; 
the next, picture-frames ; the next, calendars, and so 
on. But what would Christmas be without secrets 
and mystery ? 

One of the most important features of Christmas, 
in the opinion of Rob, Kitty, and Amy, was, that they 
should all go in town together shopping, unescorted 
by any older person, with their own money to spend 
as they pleased. One Saturday morning, about a 
week before Christmas, the three children started for 
the city on this important business. 

Rob felt particularly manly this morning, for two 
reasons : he had on a new ulster, like Ben Bruce’s, 
that came to his heels, and his mother had said 
to him, — 

“Now, Rob, you must keep with the girls, and 
take good care of them. They don’t know their way 
about the city as well as you do, so you must be sure 
to keep with them.” 

“ I ’ll take good care of them,” said Rob, smartly. 

Rob was two years younger than Amy and Kitty, 
and considerably shorter; but having often been in 
the city on errands alone, as well as with his father, 
and having a good bump of locality, he knew his way 
about town very well, whereas the girls, who were 
never trusted in the city alone, knew nothing about it. 

“ You must not ramble about,” said Mrs. Clover. 
“ Do your shopping, and then come directly home.” 

“ Yes ’m, we will,” said the children ; and off the 
party started in high spirits, full of chatter about 
their purchases and plans. 


140 Jolly Good Tunes To-Day. 

“ Rob and I have five dollars to spend beside our 
car-fare,” said Kitty. 

“ I have three dollars,” said Amy. “ Two of it is 
my wages, that I have been saving for Christmas this 
ever so long, and then mother gave me a dollar.” 

“ Rob, I think you might let me carry that five-dol- 
lar bill in my purse,” said Kitty. “ Half of it is mine, 
and I ’m the oldest, anyway. You ’ll lose it, maybe.” 

“ No, sir,” said Rob, strutting proudly along, in 
his new ulster, with the five-dollar bill in his pocket. 
“ You ’re in my care, and it’s my part to carry the 
money.” 

“ I think you might,” said Kitty. 

“What lots of things we can get with so much 
money ! ” said Amy. “ I think it is such fun to go 
shopping.” 

The electric car had a trailer attached ; but both 
were crowded, even so early in the morning, with 
people going in town for Christmas shopping, among 
them several children with whom Kitty and Rob 
exchanged friendly smiles and “ Hellos,” they being 
fellow-pupils at the public school. The children did 
not mind if they did have to stand, lurching and 
bumping into each other every time the car stopped 
or started. It was all part of the Christmas fun 
and rush. 

They left the car at the corner of Fourth and Wal- 
nut streets, undecided where to go first. Although it 
was so early, the streets were packed with people ; and 
every car that came in from east, west, or the Ken- 
tucky side, was packed to the last inch of standing 
room, and emptied out its contents to swell the bus- 
tling throng. People hurried along with an absorbed, 


Christmas Shopping. 


141 


busy look ; and if you stood a moment on a corner, 
you caught such expressions as these : — 

“ Don’t know what in the world to get him — ” “ Such 
a lovely muffler for only — ” “Such a bargain — ” 
“I’m almost distracted — ” “ Cheap tables — ” “ In 
an awful hurry — ” “ Tired to death — ” “ Do you 
think she’ll like — ” and so on. 

The fronts of the stores were decorated with long 
wreaths of evergreen ; holly berries brightened many 
a window ; and before every florist’s stood a miniature 
grove of pine and spruce trees. 

The wave of Christmas excitement swept over the 
children at once ; and they began to feel in a hurry, 
although there was not the slightest reason for haste 
in their case. 

“ Come, girls, hurry up,” said Rob. 

“ Where shall we go first ?” asked Amy. 

“Let’s go into Duhme’s,” said Rob, favorably im- 
pressed with the glittering windows of that establish- 
ment, where priceless jewels and bric-a-brac vied w’ith 
wares of the Rookwood Pottery, Royal Worcester, 
etc. 

“ Oh, Rob,” exclaimed Kitty, with the superior shop- 
ping wisdom of her sex, “ our five dollars would n’t 
be anything at Duhme’s. We might buy one thing 
with it, but we couldn’t buy twenty things, as we 
want to.” 

“I think we had best go straight to Shillito’s,” 
said Amy. “Laura was there yesterday, and she 
says they have lovely things, and so cheap.” 

“ Well, come on, then,” said Rob, leading the way 
up Walnut Street. 

On the Esplanade at Fountain Square, the children 


142 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


saw a great crowd standing, staring np at the second 
story of Mabley and Carew’s store, where a long bay- 
window had been temporarily thrown out across the 
whole front for use in a Christmas spectacle. 

“ What do you suppose is the matter ? ” asked Amy, 
on seeing the crowd. 

“A lire, perhaps, but I didn’t hear the bells,” said 
Bob. 

“No,” said Kitty, “I know what it is, for Janet 
Frazier was telling me all about it. Mabley and Carew 
have a Bluebeard show. It is acted every hour, all 
day, up in that long window.” 

“ Let ’s go over there and see it,” proposed Bob. 

“I want to awfully,” said Kitty; “but you know, 
Bob, we promised mamma not to go anywhere, but 
just to do our shopping, and then come straight 
home.” 

“This isn’t going anywhere,” said Bob. “It’s 
right on the way to Shillito’s. We can just as well 
go across the Esplanade, and then along Fifth Street 
to Bace, and so up Bace to Seventh Street, as to go 
right up Walnut to Seventh.” 

“ I ’m almost afraid,” said Amy, “ to go into such a 
big crowd.” 

“What is there to be afraid of, I should like to 
know ? ” asked Bob. “ I ’ll take care of you. Come 
along. It will begin pretty soon.” 

Bob’s plausible arguments, combined with their 
own curiosity, prevailed with the girls ; and they were 
soon standing on the outer edge of the crowd that 
was patiently waiting for the white curtains to be 
raised that now hid the splendors of the spectacle. 
A motley crowd it was : some “ nice ” people, whose 


Christmas Shopping. 143 

faces wore a half-smile at themselves for being there, 
yet feeling a little of that natural curiosity which 
makes the whole human race akin ; and a good many 
people not so nice, — lounging tramps, ragged little 
girls with shawls pinned over their heads, newsboys, 
bootblacks, and so on. 

Amy noticed a shabbily dressed, grimy-looking man 
standing near her. He looked so rough that she 
would have felt afraid of him, except that in his 
arms he carried a sickly little girl of three years old. 
Rough as he looked, he was so tender of the little 
one, wrapping the old shawl more closely about her, 
and turning his back to the cold northwest wind that 
swept bleakly across the Esplanade, lest it blow too 
rudely on her, that Amy’s heart warmed to him. 
And when the little one’s puny face brightened into 
smiles as the show went on, and she pointed a dirty 
little finger out of the shawl’s folds, saying, “See* 
see, pitty,” the father looked at Amy, whose sympa- 
thetic glance he caught, with a proud smile. 

“ She ’s a cute un, she is,” he said. 

“He loves that child just as much as my father 
loves me,” thought Amy, with wonder. 

The Bluebeard spectacle went bravely on. The up- 
lifted curtain disclosed a home decorated for Christ- 
mas, with “ the stockings all hung by the chimney 
with care.” Santa Claus arrived on the scene in 
the most approved style, in a sleigh drawn by rein- 
deer, came duly down the chimney, filled the stock- 
ings, and loaded the Christmas tree. The next scene 
was Christmas morning, and pictured the children’s 
joy over their gifts. One little girl found a book 
of fairy tales among her gifts, and fell asleep while 


144 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


reading the story of Bluebeard, dreaming that she 
was Bluebeard’s wife ; and her dream was now acted 
before the audience. 

A thrilling moment was when the curtain rose on 
Bluebeard’s slaughtered wives, for “gore” was not 
spared, and it was a truly blood-curdling spectacle, 
highly gratifying to the audience. But the culminat- 
ing moment of breathless interest was when, in the 
very nick of time, Fatima’s brothers arrived on the 
back of a mechanical elephant of huge size, immensely 
satisfactory, even if plainly rolled upon the scene 
with many bobs and jerks. Enthusiasm was great 
when the elephant actually wiggled his tail, waggled 
his ears, and wobbled his head. 

Absorbed in gazing, the children had been pushed 
farther into the crowd ; and Bob, in his desire to see, 
had gradually worked his way to the front, quite a 
distance from the girls. When the interest in the 
elephant was at the highest, suddenly a great tumult 
arose over near the post-office, where electric cars 
from every direction whirl madly all day long around 
the corner. There was much shouting, policemen 
running, every one else running, too, cars of all sorts 
blocked and stopped, a great crowd gathered, and soon 
a patrol-wagon dashed up, clanging its gong. 

The crowd on the Esplanade rushed as one man 
to the scene of trouble. Amy and Kitty became 
separated in the rush, and had a few minutes of great 
fright and anxiety. Managing to get out of the crowd, 
they found each other by the fountain, where the 
statue of Mercy, calmly outstretching her hands in 
benediction, rained down the blessing of Ohio Biver 
water from them as serenely as if it were the quiet 


Christmas Shopping. 


145 


night, when, under the shining stars, she has the 
Esplanade all to herself, save for an occasional police- 
man, whose rap startles the echoes among the tall, 
dark buildings looming up around her. 

Rob had disappeared. After waiting a few moments, 
hoping he would come back, Kitty said, — 

“ What shall we do ? I don’t know where Rob is, 
or whether he is coming back or not.” 

“ I think I know my way to Shillito’s,” said Amy, 
who had a sense of adventure in trying to find the 
way herself. “ We will go on, and show Rob we can 
get along without him if he runs off and leaves us 
this way.” 

Amy’s bump of locality was not large ; but she led 
the way confidently up Vine Street, delighted to be 
for once exploring the city on her own account. But 
instead of turning west, as she should have done, at the 
corner of Seventh Street, she kept on to the north, 
finally turning off on Eighth Street. 

“ What a funny place to keep milk ! ” said Kitty, 
pointing to a can of milk set outside on the sill of a 
basement window. 

“ It must be set there to cool, I guess,” said 
Amy. 

“ Are you sure you know the way, Amy ? ” asked 
Kitty, as they turned another corner, and still Shil- 
lito’s big store did not appear. 

“Yes; I am certain this is the way I came with 
mamma, when we went there for this hat. But it 
seems a great deal farther than it did that day.” 

Here they turned another corner. 

“Why, Amy,” exclaimed Kitty, “there is that 
same can of milk ! ” 


10 


146 


Jolly Good Times To-Day . 


Amy stared at the innocent can of milk as if it were 
an alarming sight, as indeed it was to her. 

“ We ’ve come right around to the same spot again,” 
she said. “We must be lost ! What shall we do ? ” 

“ There comes a policeman,” said Kitty. “ Mamma 
has always told me, if I ever did happen to get lost in 
the city, to ask a policeman for help.” 

The policeman was very kind, turned the girls 
around, and told them the exact way to go. As 
they neared the corner of Seventh Street, they saw, 
to their joy, Rob running up Walnut Street, the long 
tails of his ulster flying in the breeze, his round cap 
pushed back on his head, his cheeks glowing red. 

“Well,” he exclaimed, all smiles at the welcome 
sight of the girls, “ there you are at last ! I We been 
looking everywhere for you. Finally, I thought may- 
be you would go to Shillito’s. But what were you 
doing up Walnut Street ? ” 

“ Oh, just walking around,” said Kitty, not wishing 
to increase Rob’s feeling of superiority to them by 
admitting that they had been lost. 

“ I should think we had been walking around,” 
whispered Amy ; “ walking around the square ! ” 

“ ’Sh ! ” said Kitty. “Don’t let Rob know. Where 
have you been, Rob Clover, I should like to know ? 
With all my money in your pocket, too. Didn’t 
mamma charge you not to leave us ? ” 

“I didn’t know but you were right with me. I 
only ran over to the post-office corner to see what had 
happened.” 

“ What was it ? ” asked both girls, in a breath. 

“ A man was run over by an electric car and badly 
hurt. The patrol came and took him off to the 


Christmas Shopping. 147 

hospital. But what do you suppose happened to me ? 
When I was going back to the Esplanade for you, 
I put my hand in my pocket, and my purse was 
gone ! ” 

“ Why, Bob Clover, what a shame ! ” exclaimed 
Kitty, ready to cry ; while Amy hastily fumbled in 
her pocket, and to her relief found her own purse 
still safe. “ We might as well go right home, then. 
There ’s no use in going to Shillito’s now.” 

“ It ’s too bad,” said Amy, almost as sober as Kitty 
at this spoiling of their plans. 

“ Now, don’t you go to crying, Kitty,” said Bob. 
“ Just wait till you have heard the whole story. 
There ’s the purse in my hand, you see. I stood there, 
feeling in all my pockets, and then feeling in them all 
over again, — there ’s lots of pockets in my ulster, you 
know, — when up came a great red-faced policeman 
hauling a big, ugly-looking boy along by the collar. 

“ ‘ Lost anything, bub ? ’ said he, when he saw me 
fumbling in my pockets. 

“When I said I couldn’t find my purse, he made 
me describe it, and then he handed it out to me. 

“ ‘ Now hang on to it, sonny,’ he said. 

“‘You bet I will,’ said I. — If any fellow gets 
this purse again, he ’ll have to fight for it,” said Bob, 
who now carried the purse tightly clutched in his 
hand, not trusting it in his pocket again. 

“ Was that big boy a pickpocket ? ” asked Amy. 

“Yes, of course he was ; and the policeman caught 
him at it, and was just taking him to the station.” 

“ Well,” said Kitty, “ I ’m awful glad you were 
lucky enough to get it back again. Now let’s hurry 
to Shillito’s and spend our money before we lose it 


148 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


again. If you had let me carry the money, Rob, it 
would n’t have been stolen.” 

“Hurry up,” said Rob, not caring to argue this 
question. 

Shillito’s store, with all its distracting holiday 
decorations and special attractions, was a bewildering 
blaze of magnificence, among whose glittering tempta- 
tions it was hard for the children to select. The 
store was crowded with a throng of people, among 
whom the children with difficulty squeezed their way 
to the handkerchief counter, where Rob wished to 
purchase a handkerchief for his father. But the 
clerks would n’t seem to see Rob. The way they 
looked over his head, and each side of him, and 
through him, without seeming to see him, and waited 
on every one else but him, was very trying. 

“Humph!” said Rob, “I guess they don’t know 
I ’ve got a five-dollar bill in this purse. They think 
because we ’re children, we ’re of no consequence.” 

Finally succeeding in getting the handkerchief, 
they contrived to squeeze into the elevator at the 
risk of suffocation, and rode up to the floors where 
were the toys and bric-a-brac. This floor was a 
perfect babel. Toy elephants were bleating, drums 
beating, trumpets blowing, and harmonicons tooting ; 
and the distracted clerks, trying to wait on six persons 
at once, and at the same time answer the questions 
of several more, were yet good-natured and smiling. 
For did not all this mean Christmas ? 

The children thought the hubbub delightful, and 
squeezed about, oh-ing and ah-ing at all the tempting 
things and wonderful bargains, wanting everything 
they saw. But it was soon plain that even five dol- 


Christmas Shopping. 


149 


lars would not buy everything, especially as they 
wanted to go to the Japanese Store and the Five- 
Cent Store. It was really distracting to keep their 
heads in the confusion, and make wise selections. 

They all intended to buy presents for each other, 
but that was easily managed. 

“ Oh, Kitty, is n’t that cologne bottle pretty ? ” said 
Amy, pointing to a little bottle in a wicker frame 
shaped like a chair. “ How I should like it for my 
bureau ! ” 

Kitty looked at Kob, and Kob looked at Kitty. 
Then Rob said, — 

“ Now, Amy, you ’ll have to walk off by yourself 
round into that other aisle where the pictures are, for 
a little while, till we come for you.” 

“ Don’t look this way,” said Kitty. 

“No, I won’t,” said Amy, walking off very willingly. 

When Rob and Kitty joined her, Rob was carrying 
a new package looking suspiciously like the coveted 
cologne bottle. 

Then Rob was found to be yearning for a Brownie 
rubber stamping outfit, and he had to walk off down 
another aisle; and when Kitty was seized with violent 
admiration of a tiny china cup and saucer “ too sweet 
for anything,” she had to go off down another aisle. 
So everything was managed with the greatest secrecy 
and satisfaction. 

Going down Race Street, it was hard to drag Rob 
past Empson’s show-window, where were displayed 
the most tempting candies that ever made the mouth 
of mortal boy to water. But the girls, though they 
too yearned for the candy, found that their money 
was already running low, and insisted on pushing on. 


150 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


Even after encountering the fascinations of the Japan- 
ese Store, where they could buy so many beautiful 
things for five and ten cents that it was almost impos- 
sible to choose among them, they still saved some 
money for the Five-Cent Store. 

At the Five-Cent Store, they meant to purchase 
some toys to add to those already collected for the 
Colored Orphans. It was beyond belief how far even 
twenty-five cents would go at the Five-Cent Store. 
The children purchased on the safe rule of buying 
what they would like themselves. Rob laid out his 
balance in marbles and tops, whips and whistles; 
Kitty and Amy theirs in sets of dolls’ dishes, little 
barrels of dolls’ clothes-pins, and the like. 

“ Let ’s get some of these funny black dolls,” said 
Kitty. “ They ’re so cheap, and we could have such 
fun dressing them up in gay colors.” 

“ No,” said Amy. “ I ’m afraid the orphans would 
think they were personal. It might hurt their 
feelings.” 

“So it might. I didn’t think ofi that,” said Kitty. 
“Let’s get some of these cunning little weighing 
scales, then.” 

Luckily, in the middle of the day, when the cliil- 
dred took the car for home, it was not crowded, for 
their arms were piled so full of packages of all sorts 
and sizes, that to stand would have been wellnigh 
impossible. They had a full sense of their own im- 
portance, walking up Hillside Avenue, with Ronald, 
Jack, Victor, Dixon, and others of the small fry pur- 
suing them, crying, — 

“ Oh, what have you got ? Let me see, Amy. 
Show ’em to me, Rob ? ” 


Christmas Shopping. 


151 


“No, sir,” said Rob, stalking proudly on. “Get 
down, Duke ; you ’ll make me drop something,” to 
|Duke, who was jumping all over him for joy at his 
return. 

“ Oh, I ’m so hungry, mamma,” said Amy, as she 
tumbled all her packages into the big armchair in 
the hall. 

“Well you may be,” said her mother, who had 
been watching at the bay-window for the last half- 
hour, privately resolving never to let Amy go into 
the city again accompanied only by children. “ It is 
two o’clock.” 

After eating her luncheon, Amy opened her pack- 
ages, spread the contents out on her bed, and called her 
mother to come and admire her wonderful bargains. 
Certainly never did money give the spender more 
pleasure than that which the children had expended 
in their Christmas shopping. 


152 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


CHAPTER XII. 


MERRY CHRISTMAS, 


HE week before Christmas was always a harried 



J_ one for Amy. There were so many friends 
she loved, for each of whom she wanted to make some 
present. Christmas would not have been Christmas to 
Amy if she could not have made each of these friends 
a present. But in spite of all her industry beforehand, 
the last week was sure to be crowded. The library 
was “a spectacle,” as Mrs. Strong said, with the 
contents of all Amy’s piece bags and boxes, silk and 
velvet bits, ribbons, etc., strewn about ; while the pro- 
fessor complained that his desk had become useless 
to himself, the rightful proprietor, so cumbered was 
it with Amy’s painting materials, and unfinished cal- 
endars, picture-frames, and what not. 

“ I must say, I shall be glad when Christmas is 
over,” he said one night, rather impatiently. 

The professor was a son of the Puritans, brought up 
in old Massachusetts, and never had a Christmas gift in 
his life until he was almost forty years old. Christmas 
was unknown in his youth, save as a Popish observ- 
ance kept by some of the “ Episcopalers ; ” and even 
yet the professor was hardly fully converted to its 
merits. 

“ Papa does n’t dream what a nice present he is 
going to have from somebody, does he, mamma ? ” said 


Merry Christmas. 153 

x 

Amy, looking up from her painting significantly at 
her mother. 

“ Pshaw ! sheer nonsense, the whole of it,” said papa, 
but looking rather pleased, after all, and in better 
humor. 

“No one must look into my bottom bureau drawer,” 
continued Amy. “ Don’t you remember, mamma, 
how Philip used to tease me when he was at home, 
pretending he couldn’t wait to see his present, and 
was going to peep into my drawer ? How I used to 
scream and chase him about! How nice Philip is ! 
And how I do want to see Gladys ! If she is half 
as pretty as her picture, she must be lovely. Do you 
think they will really come home this spring, mamma? ” 

“ Yes, they expect to, if nothing happens to change 
their plans.” 

“ How soon will you pack the box for my nieces, 
mamma ? ” 

Amy was the proud aunt of two darling baby 
nieces in Boston, Sydney’s children. She felt her 
importance over the other children on the avenue, 
in being “a real aunt,” and often talked of “my 
nieces,” whom she never yet had seen. 

“ I will do it up now,” said her mother, “ if your 
things are ready.” 

“ Oh, goody ! ” said Amy. “ Yes ; Sydney’s calendar ’s 
all dry now, and I only have to put a ribbon into 
Faith’s picture-frame. I ’ll run upstairs and bring 
down the other things.” 

“ Don’t run upstairs, Amy,” said her mother. “ It ’s 
bad for you. Walk. There is time enough.” 

“ Oh, I can’t walk, I feel so excited,” said Amy. 
“ I do think Christmas is splendid.” 


154 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


Away she flew, coming back laden with such an 
odd collection of things that both she and her mother 
laughed when they were all piled on the sofa. Among 
the rest were two rag dolls, so natural they looked like 
real babies, and two rattles made by Amy, of bells 
attached to bright ribbons which were wound around 
a stick ; a wonderful spotted brown and white pony, 
more natural than life, attached to a small cart, 
charming picture-books, a rabbit that wound up and 
ran all around the room, and other toys, besides all 
the things for Sydney and Faith, his wife. 

“ Don’t they look cunning and babyish ? ” said 
Amy. “It makes me want to see my nieces so much. 
Do you think we shall go to Boston this summer, 
mamma ? ” 

“I can’t tell yet,” said Mrs. Strong, “It is an 
expensive journey, and I don’t know whether we can 
afford it this year.” 

“I shall be perfectly happy if I can only go to 
Boston,” said Amy, decidedly. 

“ I don’t believe I can ever get all these things into 
this box,” said Mrs. Strong, who was struggling with 
the box. 

This was the annual Christmas despair. But, as 
usual, all the things were crammed into the box some- 
how ; and all the other bundles were done up and sent 
off, by express and mail, to Philip and Gladys, to all 
the uncles and aunts, to the cousins in Nebraska and 
Philadelphia, to Aunt Lou in Pittsburg, and so on. 

The poor postman now came, bending beneath such 
a load of packages that he looked as if he might be 
Santa Claus in person, — packages that were at once 
smuggled into Mrs. Strong’s closet, because she and 


Merry Christmas . 


155 


Amy had agreed that no packages were to be opened 
until Christmas morning. 

“ Then we will simply wallow in packages,” said 
Amy. 

Finally, the “ night before Christmas,” so anxiously 
awaited on Hillside Avenue by the army of children, 
actually came. At dusk, Amy ran about, leaving 
mysterious bundles at Cousin Elizabeth’s, at Kitty’s 
and Irene’s and Laura’s, meeting on the way Kitty 
and Irene and Laura, also carrying, with much mystery 
and secrecy, various packages. When the door-bell 
rang, Amy was on the alert; but so was Kora too, 
hiding everything behind her, and hastening with it 
up into Mrs. Strong’s room, not even letting Amy 
peep at the outside, which Amy said was “ too bad,” 
although she really enjoyed all the mystery and 
excitement. 

As soon as dinner was over, Amy hastened to 
bring down the stockings, and hang them in place. 
Papa’s respectable gray sock, pinned to mamma’s 
long black stocking, was hung over the back of two 
chairs placed together ; while Amy pinned two of her 
stockings together to hang up. Then she put her 
presents for her father and mother into and on their 
stockings and chairs, making them promise not to 
look. This important business done, Amy tried to 
read, but at eight o’clock said, — 

“ I believe I ’ll go to bed now.” 

“ You do not look at all sleepy,” said her mother, 
smiling at the bright, shining eyes. 

“ I can’t wait for it to be morning,” said Amy. “ I 
want to go to bed to make it come sooner.” 


156 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


After Amy had been in bed about an hour, Mrs. 
Strong said, — 

“ I ’in sure Amy must be asleep. I think I can 
safely venture to bring down her things now. I want 
to get off to bed soon myself, for we are sure to be 
wakened early to-morrow morning.” 

She went upstairs and began collecting as quietly 
as possible the presents and packages that had been 
hidden away in all sorts of corners. But do her best, 
there w r ould be a creaking of doors and drawers, a 
rattling of papers ; and presently from Amy’s room 
came the call, — 

“ Mamma ! ” 

“ Dear me ! ” said Mrs. Strong, turning up Amy’s gas, 
and looking in dismay at the very wide-open eyes 
shining from Amy’s pillow, “ is it possible you are 
not asleep yet ? ” 

“ I can’t go to sleep, I ’m so excited,” said Amy. 
“ I wish you would come and lie down by me for a 
little while. Perhaps I could go to sleep then.” 

“I will,” said her mother, “as soon as I have 
arranged all the things.” 

“ All ? ” said Amy. “ Then there must be a great 
many.” 

“You will soon know now,” said Mrs. Strong, smil- 
ing. “ Lie still and try to go to sleep.” 

She smiled again, as she surveyed the gifts, after 
her work was done. A modest pile of articles graced 
her own chair, chiefly Amy’s gifts, a still smaller pile 
the professor’s ; while two stockings crammed full, 
and two chairs piled high, hardly held all the things 
for Amy. Then she went into Amy’s room, and lay 
down beside her excited little girl. 


Merry Christmas. 


157 


When Amy still slept in the crib beside her mother, 
if restless, she used to beg the privilege of getting over 
into “the sweet mother-love bed,” as she called it. 
And now, as her mother lay by her, gradually the 
sense of the brooding mother-love quieted the restless 
brain, stilled the quick breathing into long, deep 
breaths, and Amy was at last fast asleep, even if it 
were Christmas Eve. 

In spite of going to sleep later than usual, she was 
the first person awake in the house. 

“ Merry Christmas, papa ! Merry Christmas, mam- 
ma ! ” woke the professor and his wife in the gray of 
the early morning. 

“Merry Christmas, Amy,” came rather drowsily 
from papa and mamma. Then they looked at each 
other and laughed. 

“ I guess I will go down and light the gas for her, 
as she is up and dressed,” said the professor, begin- 
ning to dress. 

“ What time is it ? ” asked Mrs. Strong. 

“Just six.” 

“ I may as well get up, too,” said Mrs. Strong. “ I 
shall not go to sleep again.” 

In truth, both wanted to see Amy’s joy over her 
presents. They hurried downstairs, to find the library 
a surging sea of brown paper and string, and Amy in 
the midst, in an ecstasy of delight over all her 
gifts. 

“ I thank you so much, papa, for ‘ The Leather 
Stocking Series,’ ” said Amy. “ I know I shall just 
revel in them. And that box of fancy paper, mamma, 
was exactly what I wanted.” 

Mrs. Strong smiled, this was so characteristic 


158 


Jolly Good Times To-Day . 


of Amy, who was always satisfied with what she 
received, not a bit spoiled, if she were an only 
daughter. 

Amy was now digging down toward the toe of her 
stocking. She knew that her mother usually put 
some jokelet in the toe of her stocking ; so when she 
brought up from the depths a small square package, 
she laughed and looked at her mother, saying, — 

“ I know what this is.” 

“ This is something different from what you expect,” 
said Mrs. Strong. 

“ Oh, oh, o-o-h ! ” now exclaimed Amy. For the 
little package contained a paper box, on the outside of 
which was inscribed, “Duhme and Co.;” and inside 
was the prettiest silver watch and chain, Amy thought, 
that she had ever seen. 

“ Look inside the case, Amy,” said her mother. 

Opening the case, there was an inscription, — “Amy, 
from Grandma.” 

Then Mrs. Strong told Amy that her grandmother, 
who had died the previous autumn, soon after her re- 
turn from a summer in her old Massachusetts home, 
had requested that a watch be bought for Amy as her 
last Christmas present from grandma. 

Tears came in Amy’s eyes. She said, — 

“ I shall always keep it, as long as I live, to remem- 
ber grandma by.” 

The corners of a little square bundle gave the other 
stocking an odd shape. This bundle proved to be a 
dollar camera. 

“ This is what I wanted the most of anything,” said 
Amy. Eob had one of these cameras, and Irene ; and 
Amy longed to try her skill at taking photographs. 


Merry Christmas. 


159 


Professor Strong had stood all this time, tall and 
smiling, looking down from his height on Amy’s 
raptures. 

“ Papa has n’t even opened his presents yet,” said 
Amy, surprised that her father could take matters so 
coolly. “ Please, papa, look at your presents.” 

Thus implored, her father, with a quizzical smile, 
took up a large bundle, on the outside of which was 
written, “Papa Strong, from his loving little daugh- 
ter, Amy.” Opening it, there was a nightshirt ! 

“ Why, is it possible that you made this, Amy ? ” 

“Yes, indeed I did, almost every stitch of it, except 
the button-holes, did n’t I, mamma ? ” 

“ Yes,” said Mrs. Strong ; “ Amy really worked very 
hard on it. She said she knew papa liked useful 
presents.” 

The professor looked greatly pleased. He held the 
garment up, and examined it critically all over. Some 
of the stitches were a trifle long, perhaps ; but that 
only made it more precious, because they showed 
the hand of the loving child, toiling to give papa 
pleasure. 

“ This is a very nice present, Amy,” said the pro- 
fessor; “and I shall prize it highly, because you made 
it yourself.” 

Mamma’s turn to be surprised came next, when 
she found a pretty white apron for herself, also made 
by Amy. 

“Why, Amy,” she said, “how did you manage to 
make this, and keep it secret from me ? ” 

“Mrs. Clover bought it for me with my own 
money,” said Amy, “ and I sewed on it over at Cousin 
Elizabeth’s. She showed me about it.” 


160 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


There was also a painted calendar for papa, and a 
tiny Japanese bowl, bought with Amy’s money, for 
mamma. Amy had worked hard to make a happy 
Christmas for her friends, and now their pleasure was 
the best part of her own Christmas joy. 

Amy had many friends, and each had sent her 
something. When all the packages were at last 
opened, and she had arranged the gifts on the library 
table, it was full, and really a brilliant spectacle, 
with its many\ bright and dainty and shining things. 
Amy was as pleased with the little gifts, that stood 
for some friend’s love, as with the more costly. She 
hovered over the table in a distracted way, like a 
butterfly over a flower-bed, lighting now on this, now 
on that. 

“I think this court-plaster case Cousin Emma 
made for me is so pretty,” she said; “and how kind 
it was of Mrs. White to make me a needle-book. Oh, 
mamma, you have n’t seen this book that Mr. Kinsmont 
gave me.” 

Mr. Kinsmont was a young gentleman friend 
of the family, who was very kind to Amy. Mrs. 
Strong took up the book, quite a large one, and 
read, with a frown of disapproval, the title, “ Cupid’s 
Quiver.” 

“A very singular book to give a little girl,” she 
said frigidly. 

How Amy laughed ! for the book, a miracle of 
deception, opened, proved to be a box of choicest 
candies. 

“ I do pity the Clovers so ! ” said Amy, when at last 
the excitement had subsided sufficiently to admit of 
their sitting down to breakfast. 


Merry Christmas. 


161 


“Why so?” asked her father, surprised, for the 
Clovers had never struck him as objects of com- 
passion. 

“They are not allowed to look at their presents 
until after breakfast. I should think they would die. 
Their presents are all in the library ; and the door is 
kept shut until after breakfast, and no one even 
allowed to peep in. Kitty said that last year, after 
breakfast, her father formed them all in a procession 
in order of age, Kob first and his mother last, and 
marched them all around the house, upstairs and 
down, just to tease them, before he let them into the 
library.” 

Grimm’s Fairy Tales had come by mail, and sev- 
eral other books, besides those from Amy’s father 
and mother. After breakfast, piling all her new 
books up near by, with Mr. Kinsmont’s box of candy 
within easy reach, Amy ensconced herself in her 
favorite seat, — the big armchair before her father’s 
desk, by the window that looked down toward the 
big elms in the hollow, — and prepared to give herself 
up to perfect happiness. 

“Do you expect to read all those books at once, 
Amy ? ” asked her father. 

“Ko, papa; but it makes me feel so rich to have 
them all about me. I love to revel in them;” and 
Amy proceeded to “revel” in Grimm until she heard 
Kitty’s light footsteps running up the back steps, 
and, in a moment more, Kitty herself popped into 
the room, her brown eyes big with excitement. 

“Oh, Amy,” she said, “you must come right over 
and see our things. I have a pink silk dress for 
dancing-school ! ” 


11 


162 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


“How lovely!” exclaimed Amy, with almost a 
twinge of envy. 

“Yes, and a new sled, very big, and, oh, lots of 
things! And Rob has a printing-press and a little 
telephone.” 

“ Oh, has he ? ” said Amy. “ I ’ll be right over.” 

But first Kitty must stop and admire Amy’s pres- 
ents. Then Amy went to see Kitty and Rob’s trea- 
sures. Then they all went down to see Irene’s gifts, 
and Irene came back with them to see their things ; 
and then Frida Goldschmidt came running over to 
ask them all to come to her house and see her Christ- 
mas tree; and finally they went down to Cousin Eliza- 
beth’s, where the small Ronald, Jack, and Phyllis 
were almost buried in a sea of presents. Evidently 
Santa Claus had received Jack’s letter. He had been 
much helped in his good work by some uncles and 
aunts in Washington, whose big box was always one 
of the features of the Neales’ Christmas. Cousin 
Elizabeth’s back parlor looked like a bazaar, and 
sounded as if a menagerie had broken loose in it, with 
all the children trying all the new toys at once. By 
this time it was noon, and high time to dress for 
dinner, especially as the Strongs were to havb as 
guests some old friends, — Dr. and Mrs. Hough, and 
Judge and Mrs. White. 

It had been arranged that the Brightside clubs 
should make their gifts to the Colored Orphans at 
four o’clock on Christmas Day. The members of the 
clubs met at Mrs. Herndon’s ; and a little before four 
quite a procession of girls and boys set forth for 
Brook Street, laden with baskets and bundles. What- 
ever children set out in earnest to do, generally comes 


Merry Christmas. 


163 


to pass; and the amount of things the Brightside 
members had managed to collect for the orphans 
was surprising, — nice things, too, sure to please the 
children. 

The Colored Orphan Asylum was a rickety, ram- 
bling old building, standing on the heights of Brook 
Street. Sometime the trustees hoped to raise money 
for the new building so sorely needed. But the insti- 
tution was poor, chiefly supported by the donations 
of the hard-working 'colored people of Cincinnati, so 
here, for want of a better place, forty homeless chil- 
dren were sheltered and trained in good habits until 
able to care for themselves. 

The club found the orphans, dressed in their Sunday 
best, all shining with soap and expectance, gathered 
in the dining-room, where still lingered the savory 
odors of the nice turkey dinner, to which Mrs. Strong 
and other mothers had contributed. The orphans 
eyed the big baskets, and the Brightsiders eyed the 
orphans. Then the superintendent- gave them a great 
surprise by saying, — 

“ We have prepared a few exercises to entertain our 
kind young friends.” 

A variety of recitations followed, and singing by 
the colored children. The Brightsiders were greatly 
entertained, and realized that virtue brings unexpected 
rewards sometimes. They were especially amused by 
the infant class of six tiny girls, four or five years old. 

“ Did you ever see anything so cunning as those little 
girls ? ” whispered Amy. # 

“ No,” said Kitty. “ I ’m so glad there are dolls 
enough to go around.” 

The little girls’ hair was braided in pigtails a half- 


164 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


finger long, standing out from their heads at unusual 
angles, and tied with bright tags of ribbon, in great 
variety of color. They enjoyed their own singing im- 
mensely, rolling their big eyes comically, and showing 
all their gleaming white teeth as they shouted out 
their melodies. One would hardly have believed that 
six such little bodies could hold such a volume of 
sound. Especially did they let themselves out on the 
chorus : — 

“ Down came the angels, 

And took her soul away ! ” 

This almost split the hearers’ ears every time, and 
was sung with a broad grin of delight, as if it were 
the merriest thought imaginable. 

Although gratified with the impression they were 
evidently making on their guests, the Orphans were 
visibly bursting with impatience before the superin- 
tendent finally brought the exercises to a close, and 
said, — 

“ Now let us have perfect order, and our kind young 
friends will distribute the gifts they have brought us.” 

A great moment this, both for the orphans and the 
Brightsiders. It was hard to tell which enjoyed it 
most. The bundles of clothing were given to the 
superintendent, who said that everything was sure to 
be acceptable, as nothing ever came amiss where there 
were forty active children to be clothed. Elliot and 
Bob had tugged over a basket containing four dozen 
oranges that Mrs. Carman had contributed. The 
older boys passed these around, while the smaller 
boys distributed the candy-bags and nuts, and the 
girls gave out the dolls and other toys. 


165 


Merry Christmas. 

Mrs. Strong had learned tire children’s ages, so there 
was an appropriate toy for each child, besides a candy- 
bag, an orange, and nuts. The rapture of the six little 
girls with their six little dolls was pleasant to see. 
They hugged the precious dollies closely, and looked 
as if they thought “the angels” had come down in 
good earnest in the persons of Amy, Kitty, Laura, 
and Irene, — the little girls who looked so sweet and 
happy in making others happy. 

When Amy went to bed that night, she said to 
her mother, — 

“ It has been such a happy day. I think I ought 
to be a very happy little girl, with so many kind 
friends, and I am, too ; ” and she put more than usual 
fervor into the little prayer of her own that always 
followed “ Our Father,” — a prayer for “ all those I 
love.” 

Under all Amy’s brightness and capacity for play 
and fun, lay a deep and real religious trust. She 
felt that God was her friend, to whose loving-kindness 
she owed all that made life so pleasant. When only 
nine years old, she had a great trial to undergo. At 
that time, she wrote out, with much effort, this 
“ poem,” as she called it, as really religious as many 
a hymn, representing, as it did, the child’s real faith. 

The poem was called — 

The Lord. 

The Lord is great. 

The Lord is 
Good. 

He always helps 
Us out of 
Our troubles. 


166 


Jolly Good Times To-Day . 


lie hears each wrong. 
He hears each 
Act of good. 

He watches 
Over us at night, 

And watches o’er 
At day. 

He loves 
Us with 

A father’s heart. 

And now 
When we lay 
Our heads 
Down upon 
Our pillows 
Soft, 

We must 
Not forget 
To thank Him 
For His 
Loving eye 
That 

Watches through the 
Sun and rain for- 
Ever with a loving 
Eye, in sunshine and in rain. 


167 


“Fun ” in the Snow. 


CHAPTER XIII. 

“ FUN ” IN THE SNOW. 

I T was counted a special piece of good luck by all 
the Hillside Avenue children, that the first snow 
of the winter should happen to come in the Christ- 
mas holidays, when they could improve it to the 
utmost, and when so many new sleds were burning to 
be used. It was a real up-and-down snow-storm, too ; 
not one of those pretenders, so common in Cincinnati, 
with snow enough to whiten the ground and raise the 
hopes of all the girls and boys, only to turn into a 
disappointing rain and slush. It began in the even- 
ing, and snowed fast all night. The next morning, 
Amy was awakened first by Kitty’s well-known — 

“ Pur-r-r-r ! ” 

Then something hit her window. Opening her 
sleepy eyes, she saw remnants of a snowball still 
clinging to her window toward the Clovers. 

“ Oh, it must have been snowing ! ” thought she, 
wide awake at once, jumping out of bed and running 
to the window. “ Oh, how beautiful ! It looks as if 
an enchanter had waved his wand while we were all 
asleep, and made a white world ! ” 

Soft white snow weighed down the spruce-trees, 
covered the elm boughs, and hung on all the familiar 
roofs. The clouds were just parting, and the sun 
broke out in dazzling brightness, glancing and spark- 


168 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


ling on the snow crystals. Kitty and Rob, armed with 
brooms, their cheeks red and glowing with exercise, 
were out valiantly sweeping the paths. Not that this 
was necessary, for the Clovers’ colored man would 
attend to that ; but they wanted to. Mr. Green, 
his shovel, and his dogs were already out, making 
Professor Strong’s paths. 

Kitty soon spied Amy’s head peeping through her 
curtain’s folds. 

“ Amy, you sleepy head,” she called, “ how can you 
be asleep with such a snow as this ? Rob and I have 
been out ever so long.” 

“ Is n’t it splendid?” said Amy. “Duke likes it, 
does n’t he ? ” 

“ He does now ; but he did n’t at first, you ’d better 
believe,” said Rob. “ He never saw snow before, you 
know, and at first- he was afraid of it. He would n’t 
come out of his house, — just sat in his door and 
howled. Finally I pulled him out. Now he finds it 
does n’t hurt him, he thinks it as much fun as anybody 
else.” 

Duke was running up and down, barking at the 
snow, biting it, and white all over where Kitty and 
Rob had swept snow on him. 

“ Hurry up and get down here, Amy,” said Kitty. 

“ I ’ll be down in a minute,” said Amy. 

Rut she could not resist opening her window, and 
making bird-tracks in the fresh snow all over the 
porch roof as far as she could reach out. Then she 
drew a giant face on the roof in the snow with her 
forefinger, writing “ Amy Strong ” underneath, with 
great flourishes ; but after breakfast she put on her 
rubber boots, hunted up her sled, and hastened to join 
the other children. 


'Fun ” in the Snow. 


169 


Hillside Avenue was alive from one end to the 
other. The children, big and little, were all out with 
their sleds ; and the clear, cold air resounded with 
their merry shouts and laughter. Amy, Kitty, Rob, 
Elliot, and some of the others made a sliding track 
down the Strongs’ hillside to the brook. The hillside 
was steep, and the track all the better because they 
must make a skilful turn toward the bottom to avoid 
going into the brook. Here the children dashed 
down, and toiled and tugged up again untiringly. 

Duke seemed to think the whole performance was 
expressly for his benefit, and chased the flying sleds, 
barking wildly, and sometimes catching hold of a 
boy’s overcoat or a girl’s cloak with his teeth. 

After dinner, the coasters mostly gathered at Dr. 
Trimble’s, the best coasting place on the street, where 
the big boys had made a long track, with a “ thank-ye- 
ma’am” in the middle, that sent those able to stick to 
their sleds flying off across a long valley at the foot 
of the hill. Now and then sleds bumped into each 
other, or some one rolled off at the “ thank-y e-ma’am,” 
but no one was hurt, and these accidents only made 
more fun. 

Amy came in to the dinner-table at night tired in- 
deed, but rosy and hungry, full of talk, telling her 
father and mother all about the sport. 

“ One of the funniest things,” said Amy, “ was to 
see the little Posey boys. They started all right at 
the top of the hill ; but as they did n’t know how to 
steer, their sleds would turn around, and there they 
would be, their short legs sticking straight out, going 
down backwards or sidewise, sometimes, but just as 
well satisfied, thinking they were coasting the same 


170 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


as any one. Some of the big boys said they were in 
the way, and tried to drive them off ; but we big girls 
defended them, and said they had as .good a right 
there as we. Is n’t it too bad ? Ronald was n’t out 
coasting to-day, and Jack says he is sick. I must go 
down to see him.” 

“ Indeed you must not,” said her mother. u I have 
had a note from your Cousin Elizabeth. The doctor 
has just been there, and pronounces it a case of scarlet 
fever. You will have to keep entirely away from the 
house, Amy.” 

“ Poor Ronald ! ” said Amy. “ I am so sorry for 
him. I will write him a little letter, anyway, and 
get Mr. Green to leave it there.” 

That evening, tired and sleepy though she was, 
Amy wrote a funny letter to Ronald, illustrated with 
gayly painted pictures scattered through it, represent- 
ing the coasters, the boys tumbling off their sleds, 
and the funny accident that happened to Duke, when, 
in hot chase of a dead leaf that was blowing down- 
hill over the snow, he slipped and went rolling down 
to the bottom. 

Every day or two, during Ronald’s illness, Amy 
sent him one of these bright little letters, taxing her 
ingenuity to invent something new, some little sur- 
prise for each one. When he was better, and able to 
care for amusement, though still confined to his room, 
she went up to Miss Blau’s remarkable store, where 
five cents was quite a fortune, and bought him rows 
of paper soldiers, Indians, and other toys not too 
expensive to be burned when he was well. 

These little gifts and letters were great events to 
the little sick boy, eagerly expected, and brightening 


“Fun ” in the Snow. 


171 


the weary sick-room not a little. One letter that 
Ronald thought very funny, after describing what 
the children had been playing, ended, — 

“ And then we all went away.” 

Under this was drawn a funny row of children’s 
feet, walking and running away. 

The thing that Ronald prized most, and was most 
sorry to have burned when he recovered, was “ The 
family of King Spool.” 

Amy gathered a number of empty spools, of various 
sizes. On these she drew and painted funny faces, 
all of different expression. The kings and lords 
had elegant crowns of gilt paper pasted on their 
heads, while the young ladies wore caps of bright- 
hued tissue paper, with sashes of baby ribbon to 
match. “ King Spool ” himself was the largest spool, 
and looked as if he fully realized his own importance. 
“ Lord Wellcontent ” and “ Lord Doleful-dismal” 
were the greatest possible contrast in expression ; 
“Miss Satisfidalia ” looked well pleased with herself, 
“ Miss Flyaway ” very giddy, and “ Little Tootsy 
Wootsy ” was a twist spool, made to resemble a fat, 
roly-poly baby. 

Ronald, who was a child of much imagination, 
received the Spool family as his choicest gift ; and 
King Spool held high court every day in his box on 
Ronald’s bed. 

Amy’s heart was full of kind impulses. Only the 
winter before, when Ned Herndon had died of the 
diphtheria, and little Claribel, who had been sick 
almost unto death, was slowly recovering, Amy had 
devised a most ingenious amusement for her. The 
Herndons lived opposite the Strongs ; and when little 


172 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


Claribel at last began to recover, Amy could plainly 
see the thin, white face at the chamber window 
opposite, peeping out so wistfully, just above the 
window-sill, at the children playing on the street. 

“I do feel so sorry for poor little Claribel,” she 
said one day as she came in from school. “ I ’m going 
to get up a show for her.” 

“ How can you ? ” asked Mrs. Strong. “ Of course 
I could not think of letting you go over there yet.” 

“ Oh, you ’ll see, by-and-by,” said Amy, laughing. 

She was shut up in her own room at work a long 
time, then called her mother to come and see the 
results. She had decorated her double front window 
facing the Herndons with all sorts of brightnesses, — 
tiny flags, and festoons of bright colored tissue-paper 
chains, that she had learned to make at kindergarten 
long ago. Across the sill were sitting and standing 
a row of dolls. 

“ Is n’t it funny ? ” said Amy. “ Now I ’m going 
to run down and see if it shows outside, and if Clari- 
bel can see it.” 

She dashed downstairs, and out on the sidewalk, 
her long golden hair flying out as it always did when 
Amy ran. Then she waved her hand to Claribel, 
who was eagerly looking at the wonderful display 
opposite, and scampered back again. 

“Yes,” she said; “yon can see it as plainly as 
possible. I can tell old Dinah, and Lord Fauntleroy, 
and Violet, and Undine, and all of them. People 
going by will think we keep a doll store here, I guess.” 

Amy changed the window exhibit every few days ; 
and Claribel, who loved dolls, found endless diversion 
in watching Amy’s shows, and wondering what would 


Fun ” in the Snow. 


173 


come next. Amy’s greatest triumph was a gigantic 
paper doll. On a sarsaparilla calendar, she found the 
head of a little girl, life size, and brightly colored. 
She pasted this to a body that she cut out, so long 
that she had to lie down on the floor to paint it. 
When hung up in her window, this triumph of art 
filled the whole lower sash, from top to bottom, and 
could not be sufficiently admired by Claribel. 

When coasting had become an old story, — that is, 
when the track on Dr. Trimble’s hill had become so 
worn that the very turf would bear its mark long 
after the snow had vanished, — a mania for snow forts 
and images seized upon the Hillside Avenue children. 
Things always went in waves among them. If one 
did a thing, all wanted to do it. So now snow para- 
pets arose all along the avenue, until one might have 
thought that an invading army was expected, and 
that the avenue was prepared to shed its last drop of 
blood in defence. The best fort was on the Clovers’ 
lawn; and well it might be, for the Clovers, Amy, 
Irene, Elliot, Paul, Ben, and the rest worked hard 
and long to build it, rolling great snowballs, and 
piling them up, until the fort was quite imposing in 
height, and a capital place for defence. Snowballs 
flew, and battles raged fiercely, around this fort. 

One Saturday morning, Mrs. Strong’s attention 
was attracted by an unusual noise at her stable. 
Looking out, she found that the seat of war had 
shifted from the fort to her stable. The girls, who 
had been defending the fort against the attack of the 
boys, hard pushed by the enemy, had taken refuge 
in the upper story of the stable. The upper door, 
for stowing away hay, was slightly ajar. The front 


174 Jolly Good Times To-Day. 

of the stable was plastered all over with snowballs •, 
and the air was white with them, if the girls so much 
as ventured to peep out the door. 

As Mrs. Strong stood wondering whether the snow- 
balls would break the stable window, and whether 
she ought to interfere, the boys, growing wilder with 
excitement, dashed in on the lower floor of the stable, 
laid hands on Professor Strong’s sacred pile of kind- 
ling (that he liked to split himself for exercise), 
dashed out, and began to throw kindling-wood up 
at the girls’ fortress. Now Mrs. Strong stepped 
quickly out on her back porch and cried, — 

“Boys, boys! I am surprised. That’s carrying 
the war into Africa too earnestly. You must stop 
that.” 

At this attack in the rear, the boys suspended hos- 
tilities a moment ; and Paul Williams, who always 
took things literally, said, — 

“ No, Mrs. Strong, we ’re not carrying the war into 
Africa ; we ’re fighting the girls. They don’t play 
fair ; and Kitty Clover put a snowball down my 
neck.” 

The upper door swung open now, framing a bright, 
pretty picture of merry girl-faces, blue eyes and black 
eyes, golden locks and brown, as Amy, Irene, Kitty, 
Laura, May Morgan, and Janet, all peeped out over 
each other’s shoulders, rosy and laughing. 

“Well,” said Mrs. Strong, “please replace my 
kindling-wood, and then go elsewhere to settle your 
difficulties. Amy, come in now. Luncheon is ready.” 

The boys, by way of revenge on the girls, went 
back to the fort and kicked to pieces its already 
shattered remains, which mattered little, as the in- 


“ Fun ” in the Snow. 


175 


creasing warmth of the weather was rapidly thawing 
and softening what the furious battles waged around 
it had spared of its once proud battlements, and the 
gathering clouds and thickening grayness of the air 
promised speedy rain. 

Soon after luncheon, the rain came down in driving 
torrents. For a wonder, no children came in to see 
Amy; but she, as always when alone, was perfectly 
happy with her own inventions. She was working 
hard on her mother’s type-writer, her slender fingers 
fairly hopping from key to key. 

“ What are you doing now, Amy ? ” asked her 
mother, noting this industry. 

“I’m making out the catalogue of the boarding- 
school I ’m going to have up in the attic. I ’ll show 
it to you when it is done.” 

Amy worked away, laughing to herself now and 
then, as she added some new bombastic phrase. 
When done, it seemed to Mrs. Strong not a bad bur- 
lesque of some real school catalogues she had seen. 
It was highly ornamented on the outside with flour- 
ishes and designs in color, and an occasional mis- 
spelled word only added to the general effect. The 
catalogue said : — 


Miss Amy Strong, 


at her famous school for Young Ladies, will give lessons 
in french and other accomplishments. Among them are 


Drawing. 

Music. 

Poetry. 


Sewing. 

Cooking. 


Composition. 


Stocking Darning. 
Painting. 

Story writing. 

Gymnastics. 

Dancing. 


176 


Jolly Good Times To-Day . 


1. French is her principal instruction. She has had great 
advantages, in the shape of instruction from a native of 
the higher class. Terms are moderate. 

2. Drawing lessons are given in an easy but satisfiable 
method. Low rates. 

3. Music both of guitar and piano are brought under the 
fortunate pupils’ notice. 

4. For Poetry she is an universally acnoledged instructress. 

5. She has had great advantages in the compository line. 

6. Sewing is an old fashioned but useful accomplishment 
which no lady should be without. Miss Strong’s sewing is 
noted for its neatness, beauty, and sensibility. It is always 
a worthy occupation. 

7. Cooking is an accomplishment which every lady, young 
or old, should be master of. Miss Strong’s lessons in it are 
always sensible and useful. She considers the art of bread- 
making the highest triumph a cook can have. She consid- 
ers that GOOD BREAD is the hardest thing a young cook 
can attempt. 

8. Stocking Darning is payed great attention to. Miss 
Strong estimates it on the same standered as the list of 
accomplishments. 

9. Painting is a beautiful accomplishment. However, 
none but the truly skilled should attempt it. They only 
can make it a success. Daubers are never admired. Those 
who possess the REAL talent are lucky indeed. 

10. Story-Writing is indeed a wonderful accomplishment. 
It is the same as with painting, however. None except with 
true talent should venture. 

11. Gymnastics is a healthy, graceful accomplishment, 
which no one should neglect. It premotes a good carriage, 
good health, and good temper. 

12. Dancing is a graceful accomplishment, and a pleas- 
ant resource. 


These fine arts are taught by Miss Amy Strong at her 
new boarding school. Miss Strong politely solicets the 


Fun ” in the Snow. 


177 


public patronage. Arrangements can be made about the 
prices, which are always reasonable and moderate. 

Miss Strong’s address is, 

Miss Amy Strong, 

Edgeton, 

Cincinnati, 

Hamilton Co. 

Ohio, 

United States, 

America, 

Western Hemisphere, 

On the Earth, 

In the Universe, 

In Space ! 

“ I was not aware that you held stocking-darning 
in such high esteem,” said her mother, laughing. 
“ Your address is certainly very full and explicit.” 

“ Is n’t it funny ? ” said Amy. “ Now we can 
begin the boarding-school whenever the girls come 
over. But I’m going to write out a story now that I 
have been making up in my mind nights, after I go 
to bed.” 

“ You ought to go to sleep,” said her mother, 
“ instead of composing stories.” 

“ I do,” said Amy. “ It helps me go to sleep to 
compose a story. My mind is all full of pleasant 
thoughts ; and then I glide off into dreams before I 
know it.” 

Amy seated herself in her favorite place, at her 
father’s desk, and her fingers were soon flying as fast 
as pencil could scratch, jotting down this tale : — 

12 


178 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


The Romance of Castle Spirendoff. 

Castle Spirendoff was situated among wild and wooded 
mountains, but nevertheless it was always full of guests, for 
any one who had seen the beautiful Lady Spirendoff’s picture 
was willing to risk the numerous dangers of the mountains to 
spend a month or two at her noble castle, for she was then one 
of the most beautiful and virtuous female celebrities living. 

Hark! Did you hear that? It was a trumpet announ- 
cing the coming of another guest up the mountain side. 

Imogen the beautiful hears it also, as she sits among her 
maids. Let us glance at her before we continue our 
narrative. 

Her room is hung and carpeted with silken tapestries, the 
soft colors worked in a way that makes them look as if 
they had melted into each other, they blend so harmoniz- 
ingly, and harmonize so softly. 

From these lofty scenes Amy was called down to 
common life again by the dashing in of Kitty, the 
waterproof over her head all sprinkled with rain- 
drops. 

“ Oh, Amy, ” she exclaimed, out of breath with 
hurry and excitement, “ what do you think ? Rob 
has put his telephone up ! ” 

“ Oh, has he ? Where ? ” asked Amy, all interest 
at once. 

“ Mrs. Bruce was so kind, — you know she always 
is, — she let him run it over into her attic from ours. 
Rob and Elliot and Paul and Ben have been working 
at it all the afternoon, and now it works splendidly. 
Ben just said, ‘ Hello, Rob,’ over in his attic, and we 
heard it as plain as could be. Then Rob telephoned 
back, ‘ Hello, Booby, ’ — you know the boys call Ben 
that sometimes, for fun, — and Ben called right back, 


‘ Fun ” in the Snow. 


179 


‘ Quit that now, d’ ye hear ? ’ It ’s such fun. Come 
right over and try it. ” 

Amy needed no urging, but slipped on her water- 
proof, and ran over to Kitty’s, ‘forgetting for the 
time the splendors of Castle Spirendoff. When she 
came back, she asked, — 

“ May I spend the evening at the Clovers’, mamma ? 
Mrs. Clover wants me to.” 

Although Amy was perfectly happy when alone, no 
one ran faster or played harder than she, once out 
with the other children. Her mother was always 
glad when the play side of Amy’s nature was upper- 
most, — anything to keep the busy little brain quiet. 
To-night, being apprehensive of the “ Romance of 
Castle Spirendoff, ” she gladly said, — 

“Yes, you may go ; and when it is time for you to 
come home, I will come in after you.” 

When Mrs. Strong went into the Clovers’, about 
half-past eight, she thought pandemonium had broken 
loose in the Clovers’ second story, such a noise was 
going on there, — such a jumping and howling and 
barking and chasing about. Mrs. Clover looked as 
sweet and serene as usual. When the children spent 
an evening at Amy’s, they had to play “Messenger 
Boy ” and “ Authors ” and “ Logomachy ” and simi- 
lar quiet games, because the professor was always 
studying or reading, and Mrs. Strong reading, and 
they liked quiet. But an evening at the Clovers’ was 
a different affair. In the first place, Mrs. Clover 
had no nerves, — that is, of the troublesome kind, — 
and never had headaches. A little noise, more or less, 
never worried her. Then, being the mother of a 
lively, wide-awake boy, who must, of course, some- 


180 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


times have his boy friends in to play with him, she 
was well seasoned to noise. 

On Mrs. Strong’s remarking, “I’m afraid that’s 
some game of Amy’s invention. She has a faculty 
of devising new games that require to be carried out 
on a large scale, upturning the whole house. The 
noise must annoy you.” 

“ Not at all, ” said Mrs. Clover, pleasantly. “ Some 
of Eob’s friends have dropped in this evening, and 
that always helps the noise a good deal. I can stand 
the noise, so long as they are doing nothing wrong. 
Noisy play is usually innocent play. ” 

Through the babel, Amy was finally made to hear 
that her mother had come for her, and ran down 
stairs with wildly tangled locks but glowing cheeks, 
crying, “Good-night, Kitty; good-night, Eob. Good- 
night, everybody, ” to the other children, whose 
laughing, flushed faces peeped over the balustrade 
above, as they shouted a chorus of cheerful “ Good- 
nights.” 

Amy came home full of talk about the fun they 
had been having, and entertained her mother by tell- 
ing all about it, while she was brushing the tangles 
out of Amy’s hair, and otherwise helping her prepare 
for bed. Amy liked her mother’s company while she 
was undressing. “It seems so much cosier and more 
family-ish to have some one to talk to, ” she said ; so 
bedtime was always the time for confidences. 

“ At first, ” said Amy, “ there were only Kitty and 
Eob and I, and we sat down in ‘ the Den ’ upstairs, 
and told each other such a funny ‘ Eigmarole ’ story. 
Kitty began it. Eob had a set of books about Afri- 
can adventures last Christmas, you know, so Kitty 
was full of that. She began, — 


' Fun ” in the Snow. 


181 


“ ‘ Once upon a time, there was a party of six travel- 
lers going into the heart of Africa. The travellers 
were Mr. Brown, his secretary, and four natives ; they 
were all armed, for they knew it was a very dangerous 
country, full of fierce wild animals and savages . 9 

“After various thrilling adventures, she had an 
enormous white gorilla come walking out of the 
woods on his hind legs, seize one of the natives, 
crunch and eat him on the spot. Then Rob took up 
the story. Rob made them have terrible times. They 
were attacked by a large band of savages, and had a 
desperate battle, so that the ground was red with 
blood ail around. They were tremendously brave, 
and finally escaped, all but one native who was killed 
by the savages, who also succeeded in capturing all 
their guns and revolvers. Then they started on their 
way again, when an immense serpent, twice as large 
as any at the Zoo, Rob said, swung down out of a 
palm-tree, wound himself around another poor native, 
crushed all his bones, and swallowed him whole. Mr. 
Brown would have shot the serpent; but he had no 
revolver, so of course he couldn’t. 

“Now it was my turn to take up the story. There 
were only left Mr. Brown, his secretary, and one 
native. I thought it was time to end them up. I had 
the three who were left riding on an elephant, when 
suddenly a tiger leaped out of the jungle through 
which they were passing, seized the last native, pulled 
him off, and carried him into the jungle and devoured 
him. Before they had recovered from this shock, 
they were attacked by a terribly large and fierce lion 
and lioness. The lion seized the secretary ; and they 
tumbled off the elephant together into a river, and 


182 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


were both drowned. Mr. Brown had the greatest pres- 
ence of mind. He seized the elephant goad ; and as 
the lioness sprang upon him open-mouthed, he thrust 
the goad down her throat, and kept wriggling it about, 
which she did not like at all. I had n’t quite decided 
whether to make Mr. Brown, the last survivor, very 
brave, and have him conquer everything, and come 
through all right, or whether it would n’t be more 
tragic to kill him too, when Elliot Carman came in, so 
I let the lioness eat him right up. ” 

Mrs. Strong was much amused by this story, but 
said, — 

“ I should think that was rather too blood-thirsty a 
story to be pleasant.” 

“ Oh, no ; we liked it. You ought to have seen 
Bob’s and Kitty’s eyes stand out when I was telling 
my part. If I stopped a minute to think, Kitty said, 

‘ Oh, it ’s so exciting ! Go on, Amy ; go on, do ! ’ 

“ Next we played ‘ Bluebeard.’ I was Fatima, 
Kitty was Sister Anne, Bob was Bluebeard, and Elliot 
was my brother. Of course it needed two brothers, 
but I had to get along with one. That was great fun 
too. I do love to make up games, and to act. When 
it came to the tragic part, it was very exciting. I 
threw myself on my knees before Bob, and raised my 
clasped hands imploringly, and tore my hair, and 
begged for mercy. And Kitty stood up on the high 
end of the lounge (that was the tower, you know), 
and cried for help, and said she saw a great dust in 
the distance, and then I wailed some more. But Bob 
was the fiercest Bluebeard you ever saw. He had a 
bath-towel twisted around his head for a turban, and 
his father’s great ivory paper-knife for a sword, and 
he brandished it about, and said, — 


‘ Fun ” in the Snow. 


183 


“‘No, sir-ee. No use talking. Off goes your head 
this minute/ 

“ He seized me by the hair, and placed the paper- 
cutter to my throat, when in burst to the rescue, not 
only Elliot, but Ben and Paul, who had just come in, 
so at last I had too many brothers, instead of too 
few. 

“ Then Bob proposed that we should play ‘ Mena- 
gerie ; ’ and that was what we were playing when you 
came in.” 

“ I should think so,” said her mother. “ I never 
heard such a noise ; Mrs. Clover is the kindest, best- 
natured of women, or she would not endure it.” 

“ We can do almost anything over at the Clovers’, ” 
said Amy. “We were the different wild animals ; 
and of course we had to roar and howl, and prance 
about. The funniest thing was Bob. He decided to 
be Daniel in the lion’s den. So he went into the 
‘ Den,’ and took the big Bible, and sat down, to read 
in it, with all that noise going on, — ‘to be good like 
Daniel,’ he said. Then he decided he had to be one 
of the lions. So sometimes he was Daniel, and some- 
times a lion. Oh, I must tell you such a nice plan 
that Kitty and I have. Ben and Bob are going to 
take in printing to do, on their new presses that they 
had Christmas. They will print calling-cards for us 
girls at five cents a dozen. And we girls are going to 
have cards printed with our reception days on them, 
and go calling on each other.” 

“You will always be out playing together,” said 
her mother. “ There will be no chance to call.” 

“ Oh, yes, there will, for we shall all stay at home 
on our reception days, of course ; and the boys are 


184 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


going to print a little paper. May I subscribe ? It is 
to be only two cents a number. And oh, I almost 
forgot to tell you, Elliot Carman says he will give me 
some bantam chickens if you and papa will let me 
have them. Do let me. I love pets so, and I only 
have Prince.” 

“ Subside, child ; subside,” said her mother, laugh- 
ing. “No more schemes to-night. You must talk 
over the chicken plan with papa sometime.” 

“ 1 Sometime ’ sounds so far away,” said Amy. “ I 
want to know right away.” 

“Lie still now,” said her mother ; “and I will read 
a poem to you to calm you, and then you must say 
your prayers and go to sleep.” 


A Birthday. 


185 


CHAPTER XIY. 

A BIRTHDAY. 

F EBRUARY second is notable in Southern Ohio 
as “ Ground-Hog Day,” the ground-hog being 
the woodchuck of the east. On this day it is under- 
stood that the ground-hog comes out of his hole, and 
brings his wisdom to bear on the weather. If the 
sun shines so that he sees his shadow, he goes back 
into winter quarters, for he knows there will be six 
weeks more of winter. But if the day is cloudy, so 
that he casts no shadow, he stays out, knowing that 
winter is over. 

Ground-Hog Day this year was cloudy all through ; 
and the next morning’s papers displayed pictures of 
the ground-hog stripping off his overcoat, and pre- 
paring for work. The omen seemed likely to prove 
true, for even before Valentine’s Day the air grew 
mild and spring-like, and the grass began to show a 
brighter green. Occasionally there came a cooler 
spell, and an inch or so of driving snow, that, melt- 
ing, left the grass brighter than before. 

Amy came home from school one day in fine 
spirits, and entertained her mother, as was her wont, 
during luncheon, by accounts of the sayings and 
doings at her beloved school. 

“ What do you suppose, mamma, Miss Hutting 
wants us to write about next time ? The topic 


186 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


is, ‘My Favorite Book/ Marguerite is going to 
write about ‘ Kenilworth.’ She visited the ruins of 
Kenilworth while they were abroad ; and her mother 
read the novel aloud to them over there, which made 
it so interesting. But I am going to write about 
‘Pride and Prejudice.’ ” 

“ Miss Nutting will perhaps think that an odd book 
for a little girl to choose.” 

“But the characters are so real I feel just as if I 
knew them. I often draw pictures of them. Made- 
moiselle is so nice. We are all devoted to her. Mar- 
guerite is really in love with her, and Nannie Luxton 
says she worships her. But she makes the girls mind, 
all the same. This morning, Julia Butler was gnaw- 
ing the top of her pencil in the French class ; and 
Mademoiselle said to her sarcastically, — 

“‘ Yous n’avez pas de dejeuner ce matin, Julie ?’ 

“That made us all laugh, and Julia put her pencil 
in her pocket quickly. When our exercises look 
smeary and blotty, Mademoiselle’s severe rebuke is, 

‘ It looks as if a cat had written it.’ Nellie Fuller 
did such a funny thing to-day. She brought a pencil- 
sharpener to school, and at recess went around and 
sharpened the tops of all the girls’ wooden pen- 
holders. I must get me a pencil-sharpener right 
away. All the girls have them.” 

“ Then you cannot get along without one, of 
course,” said her mother. 

“ I do like my school so much! Miss Nutting is so 
nice ; and it is so interesting to sit in her room and 
hear what she says to the girls. She makes even 
parsing interesting. And I like all my teachers ; and 
we do have such fun up in the gymnasium at recess. 


A Birthday. 


187 


I like all my studies, too, except that horrible arith- 
metic. Oh, mamma, did you know that I shall be „ 
thirteen before long ? Only think, I shall be in my 
teens then ; I can’t imagine being so old ! ” 

“ I can hardly realize it myself,” said her mother. 

“ I am almost sorry to have my little girl growing up 
so fast.” 

“ Will you let me have a party, mamma ? ” 

“ As this is such ah important birthday, I suppose 
we shall have to celebrate it,” said Mrs. Strong. 

Amy’s whole mind was now absorbed by the coming 
party. As often happens to older people, she was in 
great indecision as to whom to ask. There were so 
many children on the avenue that it was hard to know 
where to stop when it came to sending out the invita- 
tions. Amy wanted to ask them all ;• but Mrs. Strong 
did not feel equal to so large a party as this would make. 

“ I want to ask Ida Jones, anyway,” said Ainy, one 
day, when she and her mother were canvassing their 
list of guests. 

“ Why, Amy,” said her mother, “ I don’t think that 
necessary. Ida is somewhat younger than you, and 
you have never been specially intimate with her. I 
think you could omit her.” 

“ No, mamma,” said Amy, earnestly ; “ I don’t think 
it would be kind. She would hear all about the party, 
and know I asked the other girls and left her out, and 
feel slighted. I don’t think it is kind, and I want to 
ask her.” 

“ Very well,” said her mother, conscious that Amy’s 
instincts were truer than her own in this instance. 

Nor Ida Jones came from a family of lower social 
position than most of Amy’s playmates, and lacked 


188 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


refinement of manner, which facts Mrs. Strong knew 
had influenced herself. But Amy’s heart was always 
kind ; and kind hearts are safe social guides, after all. 
Her mother felt that Amy had showed the better 
breeding of the two, for — 

“ Politeness is to do and say 
The kindest thing in the kindest way.” 

The all-important list was finally narrowed down 
to those of Amy’s girl friends nearest her age, to her 
particular friends, the cousins, Marguerite and Theo- 
dore, Rob, because he lived next door and was Kitty’s 
brother, and the little cousins, Ronald, Jack, and 
Phyllis. Even this made a party of about twenty. 

The long-suffering postman on the birthday morn- 
ing left numerous packages addressed to “ Miss Amy 
Strong ; ” for Sydney and Philip and Aunt Lou and 
Aunt Lois, and many other far-away friends, did not 
forget the birthday of the little girl that they all 
loved. 

“ How many friends I have, and how kind every 
one is ! ” said Amy, delighted, as she “ wallowed,” to 
use her own expression, in opening the packages and 
exclaimed at their contents. 

The loving will be loved,” Mrs. Strong thought, 
but did not say, as she thought how Amy delighted 
in remembering all her friends’ birthdays. Papa’s 
and mamma’s especially she made real gala-days, 
rising earlier than usual to decorate their place at the 
table with flowers, and to pile up around their plates 
the little presents she had made them, often accom- 
panied by an original poem too, in honor of the 
occasion. 


A Birthday . 


189 


Amy wrote her invitations on tiny paper, decorated 
with funny crests and tail-pieces made by combining „ 
the figures of her Brownie-stamps in many ingenious 
groups. The invitations said that Amy would be 
happy to see her friends at three o’clock. Promptly 
to the minute the door-bell rang; and there stood 
Ronald, Jack, and Phyllis, all dressed in their best, 
and all smiles, bearing a pot of primula in bloom for 
Amy. They were followed almost immediately by 
the other guests (if grown people would only be so 
beautifully prompt!), bearing various little gifts, and 
the party was ready to begin. 

The children fell in at once with Amy’s proposal 
that they should first play French charades. They 
divided into two companies, one staying in the parlor, 
the other retiring into the library. Amy was careful 
to choose Ida Jones in her company, because she 
feared the other side might not want her. Soon 
Theodore came out from the parlor, and said, — 

“ We have chosen a word that rhymes with ‘ oh.’ ” 

The library party were now to act in pantomime 
what they thought this word was, while the others 
had to guess what word the actors were trying to 
represent. 

Theodore and his section in the parlor seated them- 
selves in a semi-circle, within the parlor’s double- 
door, facing the square hall which was to be the 
stage. 

“ They ’ll have a hard time guessing that word,” 
said Theodore. 

"I’m sure of it,” said Laura; "for I can think 
right off of at least twenty words ending in the ‘oh’ 
sound.” 


190 


Jolhj Good Times To-Day. 


“’Sh! here they come now,” said Janet. 

The whole troop of actors came on, headed by 
Amy, to whom closely clung shy little Phyllis. Both 
sides had wanted Phyllis ; but Phyllis, looking so 
sweet in her dainty white frock, had clung to Cousin 
Amy, much to Amy’s delight, for now she could have 
Phyllis without seeming impolite to her guests. 

The actors bent over, and went in rows up and 
down the hall, swinging their arms. 

“ What are they doing ? ” asked Laura. 

“I don’t know, I’m sure,” said Janet. 

“No,” suddenly exclaimed Theodore; “it isn’t 
‘ mow.’ ” 

The actors laughed, and ran back into the library. 
Next, Bob and Bonald appeared, and Bob hit Bonald. 

“ No,” cried several voices ; “ it is n’t ‘ blow.’ ” 

But Bob and Bonald kept on squaring away at each 
other. 

“ We told you it was n’t ‘ blow,’ ” said Laura. 

“But this is another word,” said Bob. 

“ Oh, I see,” said Marguerite. “ No ; it is n’t ‘ foe.’ ” 

Then Irene came in and sat down in a chair, wear- 
ing one of Mrs. Strong’s dresses, and a languid, grown- 
up air that bespoke her a young lady. To her 
entered Jack, wearing Professor Strong’s tall hat, 
which sat well down on his ears. Taking it off with 
some difficulty, he made a low bow to Irene. 

‘“Bow’ doesn’t rhyme with ‘oh,’” said some one. 

“It isn’t ‘bow’ at all,” said Jack. 

Then he offered his small arm to Irene, who reached 
down to take it, affecting to hide her blushes behind 
a fan; and they marched off, arm in arm, amid the 
loud applause of the audience, and cries of, “ It is n’t 
‘ beau.’ ” 


A Birthday. 


191 


Then the actors all came in with raised umbrellas, 
and, shivering with cold, seemed to wade through^ 
something deep. 

“ No, no ; it is n’t ‘ snow,’ ” shouted every one. “ Do 
you want to give it up ? ” 

“No ; we will never give up,” answered the actors, 
as they retired again. 

Then they came in and hoed with imaginary “ hoes ; ” 
then they all squatted down for “ low ; ” then they 
kneaded imaginary “dough,” and had a “row” in an 
imaginary boat, — but all in vain. Then they all came 
in weeping aloud with terrible “woe;” then Jack 
and Eonald were seen to “throw” a ball back and 
forth ; then Amy, seated on a throne, with a paper 
crown on her head, commanded her trembling cour- 
tiers to “ go ; ” and yet they had not hit upon the 
right word. 

“They might as well give up,” said Laura. “They 
will never guess it.” 

There had been a longer whispered conference than 
usual this time, with much giggling. The actors now 
filed out, with laughing, confident faces, that seemed 
to say, “We have it now.” They stood in a row 
facing their audience, and, clapping their arms against 
their sides like wings, gave vent to a mighty “ crow.” 

“Yes, yes!” shouted the audience. “That’s it. 
Was n’t ‘ crow ’ a capital word ? Now you must find 
us as hard a one.” 

Theodore and his company now retired to the 
library; and Amy and her troop took seats in the 
parlor, Phyllis in Amy’s little willow chair in 
the centre, with every one wanting to sit next to her. 

“ They all paid court to Phyllis, and vied for her 


192 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


favor, as if she were a queen,” said Amy afterward, 
in talking over the party with her mother. 

Rob soon informed the actors that the word they 
must find rhymed with “sake.” The first scene was 
acted by Marguerite alone. She walked complacently 
along, evidently, from her fan and parasol, on a warm 
summer’s day, gathering imaginary flowers as she 
strolled, when suddenly she started in such alarm, 
uttered such a piercing shriek, and fled in such terror, 
that every one cried at once, “No ; it isn’t ‘snake.’” 

In the next scene, May Morgan as domestic, under 
Marguerite as housekeeper, dusted the apartment, 
and knocked something over with a crash. May 
cried into her apron, while Marguerite pointed sternly 
to the door. 

“ It is n’t ‘ break,’ ” said Amy. 

Then Marguerite summoned her husband to deal 
with the maid ; and Theo, arrayed in Professor Strong’s 
coat and hat, entered and proceeded to shake the 
weeping maid. But it was n’t “ shake.” Then the 
actors all came on with their faces bandaged, holding 
their jaws in evident agony. 

“No ; it is n’t ‘ ache,’ ” cried the audience, chuckling 
that their word was also found hard to guess. The 
actors went on, through “rake,” “take,” “make,” 
“bake,” “wake,” “quake,” until finally, when they 
all went sailing on a “lake,” that was found to be 
the word. 

“Now let’s play ‘Send a Ship to Ireland,’” said 
Laura. “ Did you ever play that ? ” 

It appearing that no one knew this game, Laura 
began by saying, — 

“ I am going to send a ship to Ireland, loaded with 


A Birthday. 


193 


things for the relief of the famine sufferers. You 
must all contribute. There are certain things yoo, 
can send, and others that you cannot. The game is 
to find out what you can send. I will send dates. 
What will you send, Irene ? ” 

“ I will send bananas,” said Irene. 

“Yes; you can send bananas. What will you 
send, Amy ? ” 

As every one now thought that fruit was the proper 
thing to send, Amy offered oranges. 

“Ho ; you can’t send oranges,” said Laura. 

After this, no one seemed to hit on the right thing 
to send. When it came her turn again, Laura said 
she would send “ doves ; ” but when Irene offered 
“ chickens,” that did not answer. It was some time be- 
fore the children guessed the secret, — that each must 
send some article whose first letter was the same as 
the first letter of his or her own name. For instance, 
Irene Brownell could send bananas, and May Morgan, 
meal, and Bob Clover, cookies, and Bessie Paxton, 
potatoes, and Ida Jones, jelly, and Janet Frazier, figs. 
The poor Strongs w^ere hard pushed to find articles 
beginning with “s.” Theo said he would send a 
shad ; and Marguerite offered sugar ; while Amy, in 
desperation, said she would send a sheep. 

Cousin Elizabeth now came in. She had come to 
play the piano; and the children played “Musical 
Chairs.” A row of chairs was arranged in the hall, 
one for each child, but turned alternately, front and 
back. The music began to play ; the children rose ; 
Mrs. Strong took away one chair, so that when they 
next sat down some one must be chairless ; and the 
children marched merrily around the chairs to the 
13 


194 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


music, ready to scramble for seats the instant the music 
stopped. Theodore was the first one left out. Each 
time they marched, another chair was removed and 
some one else was left out, until at last, around the 
one chair left, Rob and Ronald marched, very quickly 
when behind it, very slowly and lingeringly when be- 
fore it, each keeping a hand on it. So prompt were 
they when the music finally stopped suddenly, that 
both sat down at once, Rob in Ronald’s lap, which 
made all the children laugh uproariously. 

Now Cousin Elizabeth struck up a lively air ; and 
Mrs. Strong formed the children in a little procession, 
headed by Am}^ and Phyllis, and had them march all 
around the rooms, bringing up at last in the dining- 
room. The children’s eyes shone brighter than 
before, if possible, as they gazed at the table, — a 
pretty sight, with its flowers and fruit, fancy cakes 
and confectionery, the big birthday cake in the 
centre, one of Bridget’s best efforts, with fourteen 
bright-colored candles blazing on it, thirteen for the 
thirteen happy years, and “ one to grow on.” Beside 
each plate was a dainty little blue china cup and 
saucer, — a gift from Amy to her friends, to be carried 
home as a souvenir of her thirteenth birthday. By 
each plate was also a huge cracker. 

Pop, pop, went the crackers all around the table, 
and then the children donned the fanciful paper caps 
that were inside the bonbons. The gas was lighted, 
because the cloudy February day already grew dusk- 
ish. The gas shone brightly down on the happy 
children in their gay caps, chattering and eating ice- 
cream, the birthday cake with its glory of lights, the 
flowers and brightness, and Amy, at the top of the 


A Birthday. 


195 


table, a fantastic pink cap resting like a crown on her 
golden hair, her face radiant with happiness, as she 
tried to help every one have a good time. 

“ What a pretty sight it is ! ” said Cousin Elizabeth 
to Mrs. Strong. 

“ Yes ; there ’s nothing prettier than a group of 
happy children,” said Mrs. Strong. “And children 
are so easily made happy.” 

After refreshments, the party went gayly on. “ Lon- 
don Bridge ” was understood to be “ falling down ; ” 
and one could easily believe it, by the racket. No 
one would imagine twenty children could make such a 
noise, unless they had heard a “ party ” in its last 
stages. 

When the fun was most fast and furious, the 
melancholy sound of the door-bell was heard. Alas ! 
it was the carriage for Marguerite and Theodore. 
Then Cousin Elizabeth said, — 

“ Come, Ronald and Jack, get your things. It is 
time to go home.” 

“ Oh, I don’t want to go yet,” said Jack. 

“But you must. See, Irene and Kitty and Bob 
and all the children are going. The party is over.” 

“Oh, dear!” said Ronald; “I wish it were just 
beginning.” 

“ So do I,” said Jack. 

But everything comes to an end, even parties, so 
the children all came and bade Mrs. Strong and 
Amy good-night, and the girls said, — 

“ We We had a perfectly lovely time, Amy ; and the 
cup and saucer are so sweet.” 

When Ida Jones imitated the others and came 
and said good-by as they did, and Mrs. Strong noticed 


196 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


her happy face, the care with which she carried the 
precious cup and saucer, and her loving look at Amy, 
it gave her a pang to think that she might have de- 
prived the child of all this happiness, and put a 
rankling hurt in its place, but for Amy. 

When the last child had gone, and “ silence came 
to heal the blows of sound,” as Mrs. Strong could 
not help thinking to herself as she smoothed and 
straightened out the rumpled rugs, and replaced chairs 
and tables that seemed engaged in a wild game of 
romps on their own account all over the parlor and 
hall, Amy began dancing lightly around and around 
the hall. 

“ What is the matter, darling ? ” asked her mother. 
" Can’t you subside yet ? ” 

“I’m so full of joyous joy, I must dance,” said 
Amy. “ It ’s been such a happy birthday. Every one 
is so kind, and all my friends had such a nice 
time, and I did too. I ’m ever so much obliged 
to you, mamma, for taking so much trouble for 
me.” 

Amy spent the evening writing out 'a full account 
of the day in her “ diary,” which she kept in a large 
book, that looked like a court docket, as in fact it was, 
having been given her by her Grandpa May, when 
she was in Massachusetts. There were a few legal 
entries in the front, “ Jones and Smith vs. John 
Robinson et alT and so on, — very dry reading com- 
pared with Amy’s diary, which was illuminated by gay 
pictures scattered over its pages, and often bristled 
with exclamation-points. In some parts of the volume 
she had copied her own stories ; in another place she 
was writing a wonderful play, called “ Elfrida, the 


A Birthday. 


197 


Changeling,” and she had also drawn up one or two 
wills in it, disposing of all her little treasures. So it 
was a book of great variety. 

To-night the birthday entry ended, — 

“ I am so happy, so happy ! ” 


198 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


CHAPTEE XV. 


SAINT VALENTINE’S DAY. 


AELY February was signalized by the appear- 



J j ance of the first number of the boys’ paper, 

called “ The Spark.” It was of four pages, fairly 
well printed, considering it was the work of novices ; 
and although its size was only four inches by 
three, one could easily believe the editorial, which 
said, “ There is more work than one would imagine 
in getting out such a paper as this, and we hope 
it will be appreciated by a long list of • subscribers, 
who will please remember that a small spark will 
kindle a great fire.” The editors further remarked, 
“ We would like to have our business men favor us 
with their advertisements, which we will print at 
reasonable rates.” 

On the last page appeared the advertisements of 
good-natured Dr. Trimble and Mr. Murray, the 
druggist; and a cousin of Ben Bruce living in 
Metropolis, 111., also advertised himself as “ Dealer 
in lumber, and Manufacturer of Plough handles,” — 
articles that seemed not likely to be in great demand 
among “ The Spark’s ” subscribers. 

But the leading advertisement, both in space and 
profusion of capitals, was — 


Saint Valentine's Day. 


199 


Brown Leghorns, Plymouth Rocks, and Bantams 
for sale. Single Fowls, Pairs, or Trios. Eggs in 
Season. 

Apply to 

Bruce, Carman, and Williams. 

“ The Barr Brothers ” announced themselves 
“Dealers in Pigeons.” In fact, it was evident that 
“The Spark” was issued in the poultry interest. 
The leading article was on “ The Wyandotte,” and 
began, “ The chicken is perhaps the most popular of all 
fowls. They are very profitable, and afford a great 
deal of pleasure.” 

“There, mamma,” said Amy, who was reading 
“The Spark ” aloud with the greatest interest, “you 
hear that. I do hope you are going to let me have 
those chickens this spring. Elliot will give me three 
bantams, he says. Think what a chance that is !” 

“ I am willing if your father is,” said her mother. 

“I do hope papa will consent,” said Amy. “You 
see this paper says chickens are very profitable, and 
I ’m sure they would afford me ‘ a great deal of 
pleasure.’ ‘ The Spark ’ will be very useful. It says 
at the end of this article, ‘We will try to give some 
good advice concerning the treatment of fowls in our 
next issue.’ ” 

Under the head of “Important Events,” “The 
Spark ” said, “ Valentine’s Day will come as usual on 
February 14.” 

This announcement was hardly necessary, for all 
the children of Hillside Avenue were already hoard- 
ing up every penny they could lay hands on, and 
running up to Miss Blau’s store, whose windows were 


200 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


now full of the most distracting variety of hearts and 
darts, cupids, roses and posies. Even one cent would 
buy a pretty little valentine, while what the boys 
called “ a five-center ” was of inconceivable size and 
magnificence. 

Amy and Irene, being gifted with pencil and brush, 
were busily at work in all spare moments, making 
many of their valentines ; and very dainty and pretty 
were some of their designs. Amy’s favorite verse, 
not original, but admired for the sentiment, which 
she put on all the valentines for her most intimate 
girl friends, was, — 

“ Remember me now, 

Remember me ever ; 

Remember the fun 

We have had together.” 

Valentine’s Day was a lively day on the avenue, 
the children scampering up and down the street, 
placing valentines on their friends’ front-door sills, 
giving the door-bell a twitch, and then dashing out of 
sight around the corner. 

The first pull at the Strongs’ bell came before 
Amy was up. She sprang out of bed, ran to her side 
window, and looked right down on Kob and Kitty, 
who were hiding around the corner, lest Nora should 
see them when she came to the door. 

“ Ah, ha, Miss Kitty, I ’ve caught you ! ” cried 
Amy, from above. 

“ Now, Amy,” said Kitty, “ that is n’t fair.” 

Amy hurried downstairs, to enjoy the excitement 
of running to the door every time the bell rang, try- 
ing to catch her valentines. If, as was often the 


Saint Valentine's Day . 


201 


case, they were too spry for her, then she had to 
study the “ disguised ” handwritings, to see if she 
could make out from whom they came. After the 
postman had left his load, the mantel-piece in the 
Strongs’ library was a perfect blaze of brightness 
with valentines gorgeous in lace paper, — “ To my 
Love,” “ To a Fair One,” “ To my Dear,” and so on. 

Some funny ones came from two little friends, 
Catherine and Helen, Dr. Kittredge’s little girls, who 
were just launched in the kindergarten, and who had 
evidently worked hard to cut out the odd little 
designs from bright tissue-paper, and paste them on 
the small sheets as their fancy suggested. 

“ How cunning these are ! ” said Amy. “ I believe 
I like these best of all.” 

Amy had taken great pains to prepare the most 
sentimental valentines for both Nora and Bridget. 
It took much contrivance to get these out the front 
door, ring the bell, dash into the house, and be dis- 
covered innocently reading in the library, when Nora 
went to the door. 

Amy intended Nora should think hers from the 
milkman, whose horses were always sure of a long 
rest before the Strongs’ door; but Nora, oddly 
enough, was very suspicious. 

Amy said, “ Perhaps that is from the milkman, 
Nora.” 

Nora’s pretty face was suffused with blushes ; but 
she said, — 

“ Indeed, now, Miss Amy, I guess it ’s yourself that 
knows well enough where that valentine came from.” 

Bridget, holding hers up, looked at it quizzically, 
and said, — 

“And sure, ‘From my Beau’ is it? Indade, and 


202 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


I ’m glad to hear from him at last, for it } s tired of 
cooking I am. I ’ll be going into town this very 
afternoon for my white silk wedding dress.’’ 

Amy, Irene, Kitty, and Bob waited until the dusk of 
evening, and then ran about to do their “ valentining.” 

<( We had such fun,” said Amy, when she came in. 
“We had a great time leaving them at Laura’s, for 
she was watching ; and we thought we never could 
put them down and ring the bell without her catching 
us. But we did, finally. We ran behind their big 
spruce-tree, and squatted down. We could hear 
Laura dash open the door and look all about ; but 
we kept perfectly still, and she never saw us. But 
Ben Bruce popped right out on us, the minute we 
barely touched the bell, before we had time to run. 
Bob sent Van Gooding such a funny one; that is, 
funny for him to send Van. It was so sentimental. 
It was 4 To my Sweet,’ and said, — 

* With a love that ’s true, I love thee, 

With a love that ’s fond, my sweet ; 

With a love that will not waver 
Till my heart shall cease to beat.’ 

Wasn’t that too ridiculous? When Kitty laughed 
at Bob about it, he said, — 

“ 4 Well, I was n’t going to send that to any girl, and 
I did n’t want to lose the cent I paid for it either.’ ” 
The boys now printed and delivered the calling- 
cards ordered, of them by the young ladies of the 
avenue. To be sure, ink had not been spared, and 
they were rather smeary and crocky ; but the girls 
were delighted with them, and cheerfully paid the five 
cents a dozen demanded. For an afternoon or two, 
they found much pleasure in arraying themselves in 
full dress, donning kid gloves, and flying up and 


Saint Valentine's Day. 


203 


down the avenue, making calls of much state and 
ceremony on each other. They sat very erect, with 
their card-cases in their hands, called each other 
“ Miss Strong,” “ Miss Clover,” and so on, and 
exchanged dignified remarks about the weather and 
the health of their dolls, ending with — 

“Now do come and see me very soon,” and then 
skipped on to the next place. 

The calls were promptly returned, the very next 
day at latest. But after an afternoon or two of this 
pleasure, they decided that it was, after all, more fun 
to be little girls than grown-up ladies, and went back 
to tricycles and skipping-ropes with more activity 
than ever. 

It is sad to relate that the Other Brightside Club 
disbanded about this time, it was understood in a fight 
between the two leading candidates for the presidency, 
Woodard and Gooding ; not one of your tame, grown-up, 
political contests of ballots, bribery, and brag, but an 
honest out-and-out tussle, a real knock-down and drag- 
out affair, which led to a split in the club that could 
never be healed. 

The Brightside Club had finally found it neces- 
sary to admit more than the original ten members, 
as of course they must have Irene, and Ned and 
Janet Frazier, and May Morgan ; so now some of the 
favorite boys from the Other Club were also invited 
to join. The evenings were so short, and the club so 
large, that, by the persuasion of some of the mothers, 
the evening meetings were dropped for the present. 
But it was understood that the club still existed, — an 
organization of the children of Hillside Avenue for 
good works, now and then, when opportunity offered. 


204 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


CHAPTER XVI. 


EASTER. 


OWHERE is spring lovelier — one is tempted 



IN to say, nowhere is it half so lovely — as in 
Southern Ohio. The air is soft and bland, with no 
hints of lingering snowbanks to chill it ; and in a 
night almost, before you can quite believe it, the 
grass is green, the poplars have hung out their fringe 
of brown tassels, the maples and elms are hazy with 
millions of tiny blossoms, the crocuses push their 
heads out, and spring is upon you. 

The spring came with a rush this year. The lawns 
on Hillside Avenue, planted with many crocuses, were 
now a lovely sight, the flowers starring the green grass 
everywhere with gold and purple splendor. Soon the 
wild flowers began to come ; all the cherry and pear 
trees were snowy white with bloom ; and the red bud 
blazed in crimson glory in the woods and along the 
hillsides. Mrs. Strong’s magnolia was covered with 
creamy white blossoms ; her hyacinth and tulip beds 
gleamed like brilliant jewels set in the verdant velvet 
of the lawn ; and all the other flower-beds up and down 
the avenue followed suit. Then the apple-trees added 
their pink radiance to the display ; and all the elms 
and maples were covered with leaves of tender green, 
until the sloping hillsides and green vistas of Hillside 


Easter. 


205 


Avenue were a dream of beauty, seeming too lovely to 
be real. f 

The birds, who were in great force in the big trees 
overhanging the hollow, welcomed the early dawn 
with such floods of rippling, overflowing, joyous song, 
that it was impossible to sleep after four o’clock; at 
least, if one happened to wake he gladly lay awake, 
wondering at all this flood of joy that swept over the 
world. 

The damp hollow below the Strongs’ was the chosen 
home of the wild violet. Looking out almost any time 
before or after school, Amy’s brown straw hat, that 
perched so jauntily on her flowing locks, accompanied 
by various other small hats, might be seen bobbing 
about, here and there, in the hollow, as the children 
gathered great handfuls of the blue violets. Amy 
was a great lover of flowers ; they were like persons 
to her. She never could bear to see one wasted or 
thrown away, and always begged to have even 
withered flowers spared a little longer. Now she 
kept bowls and glass dishes full of the blue violets 
standing about the library and parlor, besides keep- 
ing Cousin Elizabeth and Miss Sadie Humphreys 
well supplied. 

“ Can’t I put on a gingham dress to-day ? ” was now 
the cry. “ Two girls at school had on gingham dresses 
to-day ; and Irene says she is going to wear one to- 
morrow. I ’m roasting in this woollen dress.” 

Rob and the other boys bloomed forth in shirt 
waists ; and the mothers must evidently hurry to 
make new gingham dresses or let down the old ones, 
if they would save the lives of their perishing little 
daughters. 


206 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


Amy, Kitty, Bob, Irene, Ben Bruce, and Paul, 
accompanied by Miss Sadie and Miss Maude, for 
“ chaperones,” as the girls said, went to Beech Woods 
for wild flowers. They took baskets and trowels, 
and brought back, not only great handfuls of the 
fragrant wild white hyacinth, and nodding “ Dutch- 
man’s breeches,” spring beauties, yellow and blue vio- 
lets, and purple and white adder-tongue, but also 
many roots. Mrs. Strong happened to be out when 
this expedition returned. 

“ What mischief are you up to now, I should like 
to know ? ” said Nora, looking off from the porch, 
which she was cleaning. 

The children were digging on the strip of lawn 
between the Strongs’ house and the Clovers’ drive- 
way, working away with much industry. Bob had 
the wheelbarrow, and was bringing up loads of big 
stones from the lower end of the driveway, much 
aided by Duke, who bounced around him, back and 
forth, as he worked. The girls had trowels and Mrs. 
Strong’s big watering-pot, and were also hard at 
work digging, sometimes taking a turn at the wheel- 
barrow for variety. 

“ We ’re making a rockery,” said Amy, all enthu- 
siasm over this beautiful plan. “ We ’re going to fill 
it full of these lovely wild flower-roots that we have 
brought home from Beech Woods. And only see, 
Nora, we dug up this little elder-bush, and are going 
to plant it in the middle of the rockery ! Elderberry 
blossoms are so pretty. And I found such a dear 
little blackberry bush. I ’ve set it out there, by the 
corner of the house. We can raise our own berries 
now. Is n’t the rockery lovely, Nora ? ” 


Easter. 


207 


“ The things won’t live/’ said Nora. 

“ Yes, they will, for we are going to water them 
regularly.” 

“ I guess your father won’t think much of your 
rockery,” said Nora. 

True enough, when Professor Strong came home, 
he did look a little annoyed when his eyes were 
greeted by this pile of stones, filled with earth turned 
to mud by the profuse waterings it had received, 
looking not unlike a mammoth chicken-pie, certainly 
an odd ornament for a gentleman’s -lawn. Amy stood 
anxiously by, waiting the doom of the rockery; but 
it looked so funny and childish that the professor 
could not help relenting toward it. 

“ Amy will not be a child much longer,” he thought. 
Then he said, — 

“ I will allow the rockery to remain for the present ; 
but don’t lay out any further landscape improve- 
ments on the place, Amy, without first consulting 
me.” 

“ No, papa, I will not,” said Amy, only too glad that 
the precious rockery was to be tolerated. 

The rockery had every attention. Besides the 
most elaborate diggings and constant culture, and the 
profuse sprinklings and pourings of water given it 
early and late by Amy and Kitty, Rob flooded it 
regularly, whenever he had the hose out. But under 
the summer heats, when the children were away, 
everything in the rockery withered and died except 
the elderberry bush. In the fall, Mr. Green was sent 
to cart away the stones and earth, and returf the spot, 
but the berry bushes were allowed to grow. People 
might wonder that Professor Strong should set out 


208 


Jolly Good Times To-Day . 

elderberries and blackberry bushes as ornamental 
shrubs. They did not know that they were spared 
because planted by the hands of the little girl who 
loved everything that grew. 

Amy had another season of painting early and late 
now, for Easter was close at hand. Bridget was in- 
terviewed. 

“Bridget, won’t you please break a little hole in 
the end of all the eggs you use, and just blow out 
the inside, so I can have the shells to paint ? ” 

“ Well, now, that is a fine plan. I think I see 
myself, when I ’m in a hurry with my cooking, stop- 
ping to blow eggs!” said Bridget, who had just 
scorched some cake, and was not in an affable humor. 

“ Ah, Bridget, I think you might,” said Amy, most 
coaxingly. 

“No ; it ’s no eggs I ’ll be blowing. I ’ve got some- 
thing else to do.” 

Amy left the kitchen badly discouraged. But 
Bridget’s bark was always much more deadly than 
her bite. One day she called Amy out into the 
kitchen, and astonished and delighted her by holding 
out a plate full of egg-shells, carefully blown. 

“ Here,” she said, “ take your shells, and don’t be 
bothering me again with blowing eggs.” 

“ Oh, thank you, Bridget,” said Amy. “ You are 
just as kind as you can be.” 

“Oh, go along with your blarney,” said Bridget, 
pleased, nevertheless, with Amy’s pleasure. 

Amy painted her egg-shells, with crosses and 
flowers, in humble imitation of Cousin Elizabeth’s 
beautiful work, about which Amy came home every 
day full of enthusiasm. 


Easter. 


209 


“ Cousin Elizabeth is painting a dozen lovely great 
goose-eggs,” she told her mother. “ I do wonder if 
she means one for me.” 

“It wouldn’t be strange,” said Mrs. Strong. 
“Cousin Elizabeth never forgets you.” 

“ She is always so kind,” said Amy. 

Easter Sunday morning, there came a ring at the 
door-bell, and there stood Eonald and Jack, looking 
so bright and happy because they were bringing a 
present to their dear cousin Amy. The box they 
gave Amy was found to contain one of the largest 
goose-eggs. On one side was a cross painted with 
gold, half concealed by some of Amy’s blue violets 
faithfully copied, the letters “ I. H. N.” painted 
beside it. On the other side, in gold letters, was 
inscribed, “ The Brightside Easter.” Amy hung the 
goose-egg up by its white satin ribbon as one of the 
choicest ornaments of her own room, where also went 
the various rabbits, chickens, eggs, and Easter cards, 
that came from other friends. These numerous orna- 
ments made Amy’s room the admiration of her girl 
friends, but were poor Nora’s despair when it came 
to dusting. 

When Amy went out in the kitchen to show the 
goose-egg to Bridget, Bridget said, — 

“ Why did n’t you get up early to see the sun dance 
this morning ? I was up before sunrise.” 

“ Did it really dance, Bridget ? ” 

“ Indeed, it did that. It hopped up and down in 
the heavens enough to put your eyes out. I saw it 
myself.” 

Easter Sunday was an ideal day, like George Her- 
bert’s — 


14 


210 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


“ Sweet day, so cool, so calm, so bright, 

The bridal of the earth and sky,” — 

a day joyous with singing birds and blooming flowers, 
a day whose sweet, still air and radiant calm seemed 
of itself to speak of eternal life. 

Amy set off early for Sunday-school with Kitty 
and Rob, they being soon joined by Elliot, Paul, Ben 
Bruce, and the Goldschmidts. Most of the children 
carried bunches of flowers ; and the girls were happy 
in their new spring hats and dresses. The Sunday- 
school room was crowded, many of the parents hav- 
ing dropped in to see the children’s Easter. The 
children’s offerings of flowers (put in tumblers from 
the church kitchen for want of enough vases) deco- 
rated the piano and the whole front of the platform. 

The children sang the Easter songs more jubilantly 
than ever before, because their voices were uplifted 
and sustained by the melody of a violin and ’cello 
with which two young people of the church reinforced 
the piano, and by Dr. Taylor’s deep bass voice, which 
often furnished the backbone of the Sunday-school 
singing. Thus aided, joyfully did the fresh young 
voices soar up in the chorus of Ware’s Easter hymn, 
“ Lift your glad voices ” : — 

“ Sad were the life we must part with to-morrow, 

If tears were our birthright, and death were our end. 

But Jesus hath cheered the dark valley of sorrow, 

And bade us, immortal, to heaven ascend. 

Lift your glad voices in triumph on high, 

For Jesus hath risen, and man shall not die !' 

Little did the children think now of the hymn’s 
meaning, but nevertheless it was there, deep in their 


Easter. 


211 


hearts, implanted with all the strength of youthful 
impressions ; and in the years to come, when tears and 
death and sorrow should be, at last, familiar words,' 
the faith learned in joyous childhood would enable 
them to bear it all, reverently and trustingly. 

After reading with the superintendent the Easter 
service, some of the children spoke verses appropri- 
ate to the day. Amy and Kitty spoke together Fred- 
erick L. Hosmer’s hymn, “The Rose is queen among 
the flowers.” The shy Amy would never have been 
able to speak alone, but sustained by the company of 
courageous Kitty, she managed to get through her 
part, though it was indeed a terrible moment when 
the superintendent said so calmly, as if it were a 
matter of course, — 

“We will now hear from some of the girls in Mrs. 
Hilton’s class.” 

With fast-beating hearts and blushing faces, the 
girls went down to the front, and stood facing the 
school, a pretty contrast. Kitty personified not badly 
the rose, and Amy the lily, — Kitty with her great 
dark eyes, and abundant brown hair curling up around 
her fresh, rosy cheeks, under the black leghorn hat 
trimmed with scarlet poppies ; and Amy, slender and 
delicate, her fair face and blue eyes expressive of 
perfect purity, framed by a halo of light flowing hair, 
under the drooping white leghorn trimmed with apple 
blossoms. 

Kitty said the first verse alone, — 

“ The rose is queen among the flowers, 

None other is so fair ; 

The lily, nodding on her stem, 

With fragrance fills the air.” 


212 Jolly Good Times To-Day. 

Then Amy said the second verse, — 

“ But sweeter than the lily’s breath, 

And than the rose more fair, 

The tender love of human hearts 
That springeth everywhere.” 

Kitty then recited the third verse, — 

“ The rose will fade and fall away. 

The lily too will die ; 

But love shall live forevermore, 

Beyond the starry sky.” 

Finally, the two girls recited the last verse in 
concert, — 

“ Then sweeter than the lily’s breath, 

And than the rose more fair, 

The tender love of human hearts 
Upspringing everywhere.” 

Miss Rose Carman, who taught the infant class, 
had, with infinite pains, drilled the younglings to 
recite a poem called “ Easter Bells.” A bell made of 
flowers, with a caila lily for a clapper, hung over the 
platform ; and each little speaker, at the end of his or 
her verse, advanced and gave the clapper a pull, — 
a pretty sight, because the little ones themselves 
evidently enjoyed it so much. Then all the school 
recited with the superintendent “ The Child’s Faith,” 
— a beautiful faith for any one, big or little, to have. 
This was it : — 


A Child’s Faith. 

1. I believe that I am a child of God, my Heavenly 
Father, who created me, who preserves me, who loves me as 
His child. 


Easter . 


213 


2. I believe that Jesus was my Heavenly Father’s best- 
loved Son ; and that I shall be well-beloved, as he was, if I 
become like him. 

3. I believe that God, and all good angels, and all good 
men and women, and all good children, are helping me all 
the time to lead a holy life. 

4. I believe that all my faults may be corrected ; and my 
sins, if I repent of them sincerely, and try to be good, will 
be forgiven and forgotten. 

5. 1 believe that we can make a heaven in our homes by 
our kindness and love. 

6. I believe that I shall not die when my body dies, and 
that there will be a heaven hereafter for all good children. 

7. I believe that all children will at last become good, and 
will go to heaven, to be happy in God’s love forever. 

The children sang another Easter carol, and then 
Dr. Taylor, as was his custom every year, gave each 
child a pansy root to be taken home and set out. 

Amy and Kitty and Rob stayed to the church ser- 
vice, placing their pansy roots carefully down on the 
bottom of the pew, where they could keep an eye on 
them. Amy was much sustained during the sermon, 
which was above her head, by frequent consultations 
of her precious watch, which, with a delicate consid- 
eration for the preacher’s feelings not always shown 
by older hearers, she took off and laid in a hollow of 
the cushion beside Her, so that she might look at it 
whenever she pleased, without Dr. Taylor’s seeing her. 

As soon as church was over, she and Rob and Kitty 
hurried off home, bearing the precious roots. 

“ Where shall we plant our pansies ? ” asked Rob. 
“ In the rockery ? ” 

“No; that is too full already,” said Amy. “I 
shall put mine in my own flower-bed.” 


214 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


Amy had a flower-bed of her own by the side-door 
steps, where flourished an odd mixture of flowers, wild 
and tame, but all dear to Amy. 

“ We might plant ours in our vegetable garden, 
Rob,*’ said Kitty. 

“Oh, yes,” said Rob. “ So we can. I did n’t think 
of that.” 

Rob and Kitty had started a vegetable plot near 
their playhouse, and expected to make a fortune 
selling vegetables to their mother, she having agreed 
to buy all they raised. They had planted corn and 
beans, whose growth was somewhat hindered by the 
fact that the seeds were frequently dug up, to see how 
they were getting along. They also brought some 
onions out of the cellar and planted them. The 
onions proved a profitable crop, for after they had 
been in the ground but two days, Rob dug them up 
and sold them to his good-natured mother for ten 
cents. He told Amy about it, saying, — 

“I guess we shall plant some more onions right 
away, and maybe some radishes, if Maggie will let us 
have some. Ah, here comes old Duke now to meet 
us.” 

Duke, who had been lying out under the trees a 
long time, watching for the children, came bounding 
down the avenue, his silky tail flying out like a ban- 
ner, and, running and leaping around them, escorted 
the little pansy procession joyfully home. 


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215 


CHAPTER XVII, 


THE COLLECTION MANIA. 



ASTER SUNDAY afternoon, Dr. and Mrs. 


1 v Hough drove out from the city to sit a while on 
the Strongs’ front porch, as was their custom on most 
pleasant summer Sundays. The Houghs, like the 
Strongs, were from Massachusetts, and were old 
friends. The doctor was an eminent surgeon, whose 
skill caused him to be sent for to perform difficult 
operations, even to Nebraska and other far-away 
States. In these travels, the doctor had some odd ex- 
periences, which he well knew how to set forth in 
good stories. No one was better company than the 
doctor ; and wherever he went, the children were sure 
to gather around him. 

He was a very large man, with a loud, hearty voice 
and laugh, and what might seem at first a rough, 
brusque manner; but his heart was as “big as his 
body,” and as he loved children, taking the greatest 
interest in all their affairs, the children were not 
long in finding this out. He and Amy were the best 
of friends. When Amy was a timid little thing, shy 
of most strangers, she would toddle up to the doctor 
with her last doll or new kitten, sure that he would 
sympathize, and, very likely, tell her some interesting 
cat story, — something, probably, that happened in that 
remarkable time when the doctor “was a boy.” 
Amy always wished she had lived then. 


216 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


This afternoon, Amy was sitting on the front 
porch, deep in “ Little Women ” for the fourth or 
fifth time, when the trot of horses’ feet attracted her 
attention from the absorbing story, and there came 
the well-known coupe with the two fat, shining 
black horses, and the equally fat and shining black 
Tom on top. After the first greetings, Amy sat a 
while, hoping that the doctor might get started on 
some of his good stories; but, as ill luck would 
have it, he and her father fell to talking politics, 
while Mrs. Hough was giving her mother a full 
account of the new plans of the Women’s Christian 
Association, of which she was president. As neither 
of these topics interested Amy, she thought she 
would go out and feed the doctor’s horses. 

The horses pricked up their ears joyfully when 
they saw their friend Amy coming, for they well 
knew what delicate attentions they might expect. 
Amy pulled great handfuls of the fresh, juicy grass, 
which the horses had no doubt been eying longingly ; 
and they, with ears pricked up and nostrils quivering 
with eagerness, yet picked the grass daintily and 
carefully with their great mouths from Amy’s small 
hand, that would not have been half a mouthful to 
them. 

“ How polite horses are ! ” said Amy, as she patted 
their velvety necks. 

This pleased Tom, the coachman, sitting aloft, 
serene in the spring sunshine, and led him to tell 
Amy stories illustrating how much all horses knew, 
especially Jim and Dan, the doctor’s horses. 

All this was very pleasant, both to the horses and 
their little friend. Finally Amy said, — 


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217 


“I am going to pick some dandelions, and trim 
their heads. It is Easter, and they ought to have 
some flowers too.” 

Amy was not quite sure whether Mrs. Hough 
would enjoy driving into the city with her horses’ 
heads trimmed with dandelion blooms ; but she felt 
sure of the doctor’s appreciation, for he used to love 
dandelions himself when he was a boy. He had told 
her so. Amy went down on the sloping hillside 
where the grass looked like a green sky, so starred 
over was it with the yellow flowers. Coming up the 
driveway with her hand full of the dandelions, and 
some of the spruce-tree’s tender green tips, she spied 
a queer stone among the gravel. 

“ How odd ! I wonder what it is ? ” thought Amy. 
“ I will show it to Dr. Hough, as soon as I have 
trimmed the horses. Perhaps he can tell.” 

Dr. Hough’s great hobby and recreation was natu- 
ral history. He was one of the founders and 
chief promoters of the Cincinnati Natural History 
Society ; and its fine collection had been enriched by 
many valuable contributions from him. In his 
travels he was always on the look-out for natural 
curiosities of all sorts; and people where he went 
soon learned his tastes, and saved any choice speci- 
men they found to give or sell to the doctor. 

The doctor was full of interest in Amy’s stone. 

“That,” he said, “is a brachiopod, and a very 
pretty specimen, too.” 

“ A brachiopod ? ” exclaimed Amy, in wonder. 

“ Yes. A big word, is n’t it ? ” 

“ It feels heavy, like a stone,” said Amy ; “ but it 
looks exactly like a shell.” 


218 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


“ It is both,” said the doctor ; “ that is, it is a fos- 
silized shell, — a shell turned to stone.” 

“ But how did it come in our driveway ? ” asked 
Amy. 

“ That ? s a pretty long story,” said the doctor. 

Amy seated herself on the doorsteps, prepared to 
be entertained, and the doctor went on, — 

“ You see, Amy, this world of ours has been a long 
time in making, and it is n’t done yet. Ages ago, 
there was nothing but water all over where we are 
sitting now, — one vast sea ; and at first, the only living 
creatures were little sea animals, corals, and crinoids, 
and shell-fish, like this, and trilobites. These creatures 
were numerous beyond anything we can imagine. 
You may have noticed, in all the changes and cut- 
ting through and down great hills going on around 
Cincinnati, that these hills are composed of layers of 
limestone. They are as regular almost as if laid up 
by hand, layer upon layer, with deposits of clay and 
earth between. 

“ Many people pass by these cuts every day, and 
never notice them ; yet nothing is more wonderful, 
for here we can peep into the dim ages past, and see 
something of the making of the world, far, far back, 
long before a man was ever thought of. These layers 
of limestone are composed wholly of deposits of little 
shell-fish on what was then the bottom of the sea. In 
most of the stone you can plainly see the layers of 
shells and coral, and even pick them off with your 
fingers. After the deposit of shell-fish came a deposit 
of mud and sediment, then another layer of fish, and 
so on, as the sea slowly receded and grew shallower, 
until finally, a few islands emerged here and there, our 


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219 


highest hill-tops now ; and so gradually the dry land 
appeared, and the earth was ready for animal life. 
We go to these hills, and cut out chunks of these shell- ' 
fish, so to speak, and build our cellar walls and our 
cross-walks of them, and pound them up to macadam- 
ize our roads, and never think of the ages and ages that 
it took to prepare our stone for us.” 

“ How very interesting ! ” said Amy, her imaginative 
mind keenly alive to the charm of this glimpse into 
bygone ages. 

“ Yes,” said the doctor ; “ this world is a wonderfully 
interesting place, and the more we know about it, 
the more we find to wonder at. Come out on the 
driveway. I dare say we can find some coral there. 
You can’t go amiss of it in any stone heap around 
Cincinnati.” 

Under the doctor’s guidance, Amy found several 
bits of fossil coral scattered among the gravel, in 
stems an inch or two long, rough with little star-like 
points, with some branches, and scars where other 
branches had broken off. She also, to her delight, 
found a stone as large as her hand, in which was im- 
bedded flat shells. 

“I wonder I never saw these shells before,” she 
said. 

“That is a very common experience,” said Dr. 
Hough. “We don’t see what is right under our eyes, 
until we open our eyes to look at it.” 

“ I ’m going to keep my eyes wide open now,” said 
Amy ; “ and I ’m going to keep everything I find, and 
make a collection.” 

“That ’s right,” said the doctor, heartily. “A capi- 
tal idea ! I ’ll help you. Did you ever see a trilobite ? ” 


220 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


“ No, Dr. Hough. What is that ? ” 

“ I ’ll bring you out one next Sunday.” 

Amy had now a new and great interest. Her father 
bought her a small geological hammer ; and equipped 
with this and a basket, she scoured the neighborhood 
for natural fossils and curiosities. Not alone, of 
course. If Amy had a new enthusiasm, it was apt 
to spread among the children. Rival collectors sprang 
up on the avenue, the chief of them being Ben Bruce 
and Elliot Carman. Irene, Kitty, and Rob accom- 
panied Amy and Elliot on their rambles, and gave 
their findings to these friends, while the older boys 
on the street aided Ben in his researches. 

Nothing could better have suited Elliot’s natural 
tastes. He was almost like a new boy under the in- 
fluence of this congenial pursuit, showing a quick 
intelligence and interest that delighted his mother. 

“I do believe Elliot has found his mission in life at 
last,” she said. 

The zeal of the young collectors was indefatigable. 
One warm day, Mrs. Strong, sitting on her porch, saw 
Amy, Kitty, and Rob coming, laden with enormous 
slabs of stone, — enormous, that is, for their strength. 
Duke trotted along behind them with the air of being 
a partner in the business. Their faces were red, their 
hats pushed back on their heads, their hair moist with 
perspiration, and their clothes yellow from the yel- 
low clay adhering to the slabs. They deposited the 
precious slabs on the porch with groans of relief. 

“ There ! I ’m glad to get rid of that load,” said 
Kitty. 

“ I thought my arms would drop off before I could 
get here,” said Amy. 


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221 


“My arms don’t ache much,” said Eob, taking off 
his hat to fan himself. 

“ I don’t think I want those dirty stones on my 
porch, Amy,” said her mother, surveying the pile of 
stones with disfavor. “Where did you bring them 
from ? ” 

“ From the vacant lot down at the corner,” said 
Amy. “ Some men are hauling loads of stone there, 
to fix the street, and they are full of fossils. As soon 
as I wash the clay off, you will see what fine specimens 
these are. Please let me leave them here, mamma, 
just a little while, till I go back to get some more. 
I ’m afraid the boys will find them out and get the 
best specimens, if we don’t hurry.” 

Mrs. Strong had not the heart to refuse. She even, 
later, helped Amy tug the stones down into the laun- 
dry, and wash them. When freed from their mask of 
yellow clay, some were really very curious. One in 
particular was a network of coral overlying coral, like 
a quantity of suddenly petrified worms, with here and 
there a little shell dropped in. Other slabs were 
made of layer upon layer of shells. Whole shells lay 
imbedded all over the surface, and the sides of the 
slab showed plainly the edges of the shells that com- 
posed it. 

“I don’t wonder that these stones fascinate you, 
Amy,” said Mrs. Strong, gazing at the one she had 
just washed. “ It is wonderful to think I can hold 
in my hand and look at what was created so many 
thousand, thousand years ago.” 

The next Sunday Dr. Hough, true to his promise, 
brought out not only one trilobite, but two, for Amy’s 
collection. One was curled up, the other extended. 


222 


Jolly Good Times To-Day , 


Amy laid the open one upon her hand, and it looked as 
if it were crawling along, giving her a creepy feeling, 
though she admired it greatly, and was overjoyed at 
this valuable addition to her collection. 

“The trilobite was the aristocrat of his time,” said 
Dr. Hough. “ He was the highest order of living 
creatures then, the nearest to a fish.” 

“ One of my slabs has a fish’s backbone on it,” said 
Amy. 

“ I doubt that,” said the doctor. “ Let me see it.” 

“Ho,” said he, after inspecting the slab; “that is 
some species of coral. There were no fishes in the 
Silurian Era, when most of our rocks were formed.” 

“ Where do you find trilobites ? ” asked Amy. 

“ They are found around Cincinnati, but in limited 
quantities.” 

“ How I should love to find one ! ” 

“ Perhaps you will. Sometime, perhaps, when 
I’m not busy, I will take you and some of your little 
friends who are interested in such things on a trip 
to hunt for fossils, over the river, Ludlow way. 
That’s a good place for them. But we must wait 
till the river is low, leaving the banks exposed. 
That ’s where I found my great trilobite.” 

And then the doctor related one of the minor 
tragedies of his life to the sympathizing Amy. 

“ It was years ago, when I first came to Cincinnati. 
I was driving down from the ferry to visit a patient 
in Ludlow, when I happened to see this great trilo- 
bite sticking out of the bank. Tt was a magnificent 
specimen, — long as that,” said the doctor, measuring 
off about eight inches on his hand. 

“ What a monster ! ” said Amy. 


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223 


“I’ve never seen such a one before or since. I 
thought to myself, ‘ When I come back, I ’ll stop and 
get that.’ As I said, it was when I first came here, * 
and I did n’t know but you could pick up such trilo- 
bites every day. When I came back, that trilobite 
was gone.” 

“ What a perfect shame ! ” said Amy, imagining 
how she should have felt. 

“Yes ; it was a shame to come so near a thing like 
that, and then lose it, by my own idiocy, too. I heard 
of it afterward, though. The man who found it 
sold it to the Smithsonian Institute for a very pretty 
sum, and there it is now.” 

“ I do hope you will take us to Ludlow, Dr. Hough,” 
said Amy. 

“I will, sometime when I’m not busy,” said the 
doctor. 

Delusive promise, for when was the doctor ever 
known to be otherwise than busy ? 

That very week something happened to Amy almost 
as aggravating as the loss of the big trilobite to the 
doctor. Van Gooding and Fred Woodard and two of 
the Barrs, while prowling along the railroad cut north 
of Hillside Avenue, actually found a small trilobite 
in the bank, which they gave to Ben. 

“ To think I was so near a trilobite as that all the 
time, and never found it ! ” said Amy. 

Elliot was equally disgusted with himself, for not 
having been the lucky boy to unearth that trilobite. 

“ I should so love,” said Amy, “ to find one myself, 
and think I was the first human being to see it, and 
that there it had lain, waiting for me, millions of 


224 Jolly Good Times To-Day. 

years. I shall go up to the railroad cut this very 
afternoon.” 

But in vain did Amy and Elliot and the other 
collectors slip and climb patiently up and down the 
steep sides of the cut. Evidently that trilobite was 
“ a bachelor, and lived by himself,” for no compan- 
ions did he seem to have had. 

Elliot’s Uncle Hildreth gave him a fine trilobite, 
but, to Elliot’s immense disgust, had it mounted in 
gold as a watch-charm. 

“ Now the thing ’s spoiled,” said Elliot, to whom 
gold and silver were as nothing compared to a natu- 
ral trilobite. “ I think Uncle Hildreth might have 
known better.” 

But his uncle afterward atoned for this short- 
sightedness by giving Elliot some fine specimens of 
gold, silver, and copper ore, samples of aluminum 
and other minerals, that gave his collection a great 
boom, and helped offset some of Dr. Hough’s numer- 
ous presents to Amy. 

Amy always looked hopefully at the doctor’s 
pockets when he came out Sundays, and not without 
reason, for out of them was quite sure to be brought 
some delightful treasure for her collection. Often 
did the doctor, though a stout man, and the weather 
warm, toil upstairs to look with interest at Amy’s 
collection. All the collectors on the street looked up 
to Dr. Hough as probably the greatest scientific man 
living ; and all doubtful matters were saved until 
Sunday to be laid before the doctor, for his verdict. 

Great' excitement and interest were created among 
the big boys, about this time, by the finding over in 
Beech Woods the skull and other bones of some 


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225 


unknown animal. Opinions were divided among 
them. Some thought it a horse’s skeleton, but more 
were inclined to think it some rare foreign animal 
tli at had escaped from the Zoo. As the Zoo was 
located in the northwest corner of Edgeton, this was 
not impossible. The precious remains were intrusted 
to Ben, who felt that they could not be kept too 
carefully. 

One day, Mrs. Bruce, who was a neat and vigilant 
housekeeper, fancied that she detected an ill odor in 
her library, of all places. 

u It cannot be,” she thought ; “ it must be my 
imagination. There could not be anything wrong 
here.” 

But the odor persisting, a search revealed the 
priceless bones stowed for safe keeping in the waste- 
basket under the overhanging cover of the library 
table ; and to the stable they had to go, in spite of 
Ben’s urgent protests. 

The next Sunday, when Dr. Hough came out, the 
boys brought the bones over, and stood anxiously 
about, while the doctor surveyed the remains as 
judicially as if they were an interesting surgical 
problem. Finally he spoke, — 

“ I ’m sorry to disappoint you, boys ; but the fact 
is, those are a dog’s skull and bones.” 

“ A dog ! ” exclaimed Ben, disgusted. 

“ Yes ; but if you are going to be naturalists, you 
must learn to see beauty in everything, even the 
skull of a dog. It is a wonderful structure. No 
man could construct anything so thin and light and 
yet so strong as that skull. Everything in nature is 
wonderful, if we know enough to appreciate it.” 

15 


226 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


One day, Amy and Elliot joined forces, and went 
out on a collecting tour together. Their search was 
peculiarly successful. Amy came home in triumph, 
tugging in her arms something that was beyond her 
strength except as her will and determination gave 
her strength to bear it. 

“ What have you got now, Amy ? ” asked her 
mother, not without apprehension, for Amy’s collec- 
tion was growing formidable. 

“I don’t know, but it is something very curious,” 
said Amy. “ Elliot’s piece is almost twice as big as 
mine. He found it first, and besides he is stronger 
than I. I had all I could do to carry this piece.” 

“ I believe I never saw a stone .like that before,” 
said Mrs. Strong. 

It was round, of a bluish-white color, about a foot 
long, four inches in diameter at the largest end, taper- 
ing gradually down, and as heavy as marble. 

“ It looks something like a piece of a huge icicle,” 
said Mrs. Strong. “ Where did you find such an odd 
stone ? ” 

“On Dr. Trimble’s hill, back of his house,” said 
Amy. 

“ Oh ! ” said her mother. 

“There are other rare stones there too, but we 
could not bring any more now.” 

“ But I am afraid you have been doing mischief, 
Amy,” said her mother. “Probably this belongs to 
the doctor ; and it may be something he values.” 

Amy was much disturbed at this idea. She and 
Elliot had picked up the stones as natural products 
of the soil, so to speak. 

Inquiry proved that the curiosities were portions 


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227 


of stalactites that Dr. Trimble had brought from 
Mammoth Cave. At one time he had had a grotto 
ornamented with rare shells and stones on the spot, 
where the children found the stones. Much to the 
children’s relief, the doctor kindly insisted that they 
should keep the stalactites. 

It is wonderful how a collection grows, once started. 
The collectors’ eyes were always open, on the eager 
look-out for possible treasures. Every cross-walk, 
every pile of stones, were eagerly scanned ; and many 
a brachiopod, many a bit of coral, did they bring 
home, as well as many a worthless stone, worn by 
the storms of centuries into odd shapes that attracted 
the children’s attention. Amy’s coat and dress 
pockets always had more or less stones and sand in 
them, liable to rattle out at unexpected moments. 

Of course, all the children’s friends helped swell 
the collections. Amy’s Uncle Cosgrove sent her a 
sword-fish’s sword from Martha’s Vineyard, where 
he was staying. Amy fully expected to puzzle Dr. 
Hough with this queer thing, when he next came out; 
but she could n’t catch the doctor. He knew at the 
first glance what it was. Amy brought home some 
owl’s feathers that she picked up near the owl’s cage 
at the Zoo, expressly to try them on Dr. Hough; 
but it was of no use. He knew them at a glance. He 
knew exactly how the quills of the various bird tribes 
were shaped, and how the feathers grew on the quills, 
and their peculiar markings. He was full of stories 
about animals. 

Amy had noticed, in the spring, great flocks of 
black birds flying over the house early in the morning 
toward the northeast, and toward night the same 


228 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


flock of birds flying heavily back again, to the south- 
west. Their coming and going was as regular as if 
timed by the clock. She asked the doctor about 
them. 

“Those must be the Hilltop crows,” said Hr. 
Hough. “There are many hundreds of them that 
have made their winter home for years on the place 
known as Scarlet Oaks. Their nests are built in 
the great oaks there. The owner feeds them some 
grain in the winter, I think. When you see them going 
over in the morning, they are flying to their feeding- 
place up the Mill Creek and Miami valleys. They 
find seeds there, probably. It would interest you to 
go over to Scarlet Oaks some night about sundown, 
and see them come home. I have been there, and it 
is a sight worth seeing.” 

The doctor brought Amy a huge fossil ammonite, 
some rattlesnake fangs preserved in a little bottle, 
and also a rattlesnake’s rattle, a piece of photographic 
stone from Colorado, some stones carved by the In- 
dians, a mammoth’s tooth, and many other treasures. 
Her mother gave her some Indian arrow-heads that 
Grandpa May had picked up in his own garden in 
Massachusetts ; and Sister Faith, who had been to 
Eoan Mountain, sent her mica and garnets, and slag 
from the iron mines. 

“ I see plainly that we shall have to build a larger 
house soon,” said Professor Strong, “at the rate 
Amy’s collection is growing. This house is not going 
to contain it long.” 

Dr. Hough told the children about a curiosity store 
on Central Avenue in the city. This store proved to 
be a most fascinating place. It was a little dark, 


The Collection Mania. 


229 


dingy room, with a sepulchral smell, full of the 
queerest, most uncanny-looking objects preserved in 
bottles of alcohol, or hanging up in dark cases. It* 
was like some of the queer places Dickens describes ; 
and it was almost a shock to have a quite young, 
modern-looking man appear behind the counter to 
wait on you. 

But such trilobites, such Indian arrow-heads and 
spears, such fossils, such mound relics and curios of 
all sorts as the little store contained; and such a 
price as the owner demanded for them! His prices 
were never in the least behind the times. 

No more money was wasted on candy or other 
frivolities by the collectors for a while after the 
discovery of this store. Every penny was hoarded to 
be spent in “curiosities.” Amy succeeded in buying 
a shark’s tooth and a dried sea-horse, while Elliot 
bought arrow-heads, star-fish, and trilobites, and 
pined in vain for a too expensive huge tarantula, 
preserved in alcohol. Taking a hint from the store, 
however, he preserved two little garter snakes that 
Mr. Green killed, in alcohol, generously giving Amy 
one, — an addition to her collection that she prized, 
although she was careful to tuck it behind other 
things, so she should not see it. 

Nora gave Amy some dried heather, from Ireland, 
and a large star-fish that a cousin brought over to 
Nora from the old country. Even Mr. Green caught 
the fever, and kept his eye open for odd stones as he 
was digging, to give the children. One day he gave 
Amy an odd pointed stone. 

“ I disremember ’zactly when I did pick that stone 
up, it’s so long ago,” said Mr. Green. “’Twas down 


230 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


in old Kaintuck, ’pears to me like ten years ago. It 
seemed so sorter curus I’ve always kept it; but now 
I’ll give it to you, Rabbit.” 

He also told a marvellous tale of pumpkins turned 
into stones, which, he said, were quite common “ down 
in Kaintuck.” 

Amy was sure this pointed stone was the end of 
some fossil creature’s tail ; but Dr. Hough destroyed 
this fond hope by declaring it a polyp coral. 

The collection mania had immensely enlarged the 
children’s horizon, and opened their eyes to a great 
new world. They awoke to the fact that all around 
them, even to the ground under their feet, was a world 
of wonders, — wonders that could never be exhausted. 
New reverence for the power and greatness of God, 
the Creator, insensibly filled their minds. When 
Amy rode now on the Martin Cable, through the 
great cuts on that road, where wealthy syndicates 
were cutting down the great hills and carting them 
into the valleys, working such a transformation that 
the astonished land did not know itself, with unfail- 
ing interest did she view the layers of stone thus 
laid bare in the hillsides, — stones that had once been 
the shells of fish at the bottom of the sea, stones to 
the making of whose every layer had gone countless 
centuries. Sometimes Amy could count twenty or 
thirty of these layers, one above the other ; and her 
young mind was filled with awe as she strove to 
stretch it back over the millions of years thus pic- 
tured before her eyes on the hillside. 

There was much talk about this time of an excur- 
sion to the famous Serpent Mound in Adams County. 
This excursion never came to pass. The children 


The Collection Mania. 


231 


were all ready and anxious for it; but the grown 
people, in a tiresome way they have, were always 
“too busy,” and said, “some other time.” Nor did » 
the Ohio River ever happen to reach exactly the right 
stage of lowness, when Dr. Hough was at leisure, to 
favor the much-talked-of trip to Ludlow. But there 
was another delightful excursion that deserves a 
whole chapter to itself. 


232 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


CHAPTEE XVIII. 


A TRIP TO THE FARM. 


MY had succeeded in wringing a reluctant con- 



sent from her father to her accepting Elliot’s 
proposed gift of the chickens. 

“ Only three tiny little bantam chickens, papa,” 
she said. “ They will be so cunning, and they won’t 
be any trouble at all. I ’ll feed them and take care 
of them. I shall love to do it.” 

“ Hens are always a nuisance on a place,” said the 
professor. “They will be a nuisance to the neigh- 
bors too, I fear.” 

“ Oh, no, papa. Elliot is coming over to help me 
mend the fence of our old chicken-yard, so they can’t 
get out.” 

“ They will soon be an old story to you,” said her 
father ; “ and then who will take care of them ? ” 

“ I shall never tire of them. Only try me and 
see, papa.” 

“Well, as I see you have won your mother over to 
your side, and I am in a decided minority, I shall have 
to consent, I suppose, against my better judgment.” 

“ I feel this way about it, Daniel,” said Mrs. Strong. 
“ I favor anything that will keep Amy outdoors and 
away from her books and drawing. I think the 
chickens will be a healthy diversion for her. Three 


A Trip to the Farm. 233 

little bantams cannot be a very great trouble, I am 
sure.” 

“ I fear it will be the old story of the camel’s nose 
over again,” said the professor. “ You know the 
camel humbly begged the privilege of putting only 
his nose under the edge of his master’s tent to shelter 
it from the storm. But, this being granted, gradually 
he encroached farther and farther, until the whole 
camel was in the tent, crowding out the owner him- 
self. Amy’s collection is growing to be quite a good- 
sized camel, and the hens will probably be another. 
But I will try to endure them, since Amy’s heart is 
so set upon them.” 

Papa smiled affectionately at Amy, and Amy smiled 
back again. 

“ Papa is so nice,” she thought, with a cheerful 
confidence in his love and indulgence. 

The Carmans owned a farm down the Ohio River, 
about ten miles below Cincinnati. This farm was 
Mr. Carman’s hobby and delight. He was the 
founder and head of one of the most prominent 
mercantile firms in the Southwest. Hence he could 
afford to luxuriate in farming to his heart’s con- 
tent. Here his ardent love of nature, his delight in 
seeing things grow, in fancy stock, and agricultural 
experiments, could all be gratified ; and here he found 
refreshment from the toils and cares of his large 
business. To Mr. Carman’s mind there was no 
greater pleasure than taking the reins of a pair of his 
own high-blooded colts on a fine afternoon, and driv- 
ing his family, or perhaps a fortunate party of friends, 
down the river road to “ the farm,” as it was always 
called, as if there were but one. 


234 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


The river road lay, in the first part of its course, 
among a bewildering tangle of railroad tracks ; and 
if, perchance, a snorting engine made the spirited 
colts stand on their hind legs and paw the air, Mr. 
Carman enjoyed the little episode much more than 
did his lady friends. The Carmans , table was kept 
supplied with a profusion of the freshest fruits and 
vegetables from the farm ; and, being the most gener- 
ous of families, this profusion was often shared by 
their friends. 

In a part of the farmhouse dwelt the head farmer 
and his family. The rest had been furnished by the 
Carmans, so that they could pass a few days or weeks 
there in semi-picnic fashion whenever they felt in- 
clined. In summer time parties to “ the farm ” were 
always in order. 

Amy had been down to the farm more than once, 
and knew well all its delights. Her joy was there- 
fore unbounded when Mrs. Carman came in one Fri- 
day morning in May to ask her mother and herself to 
join a picnic party to the farm the next day. 

“ Eose is going with us,” said Mrs. Carman. “ She 
and her friend Lida Lawrence are going down to 
sketch. Fred Lawrence is going too ; and I am going 
to ask Kitty and Eob, so Amy will have one girl to 
keep her company. We will take part of our lun- 
cheon with us, and get the rest on the farm.” 

Mrs. Strong, who was fond of the country, and 
especially glad of this all-day outing in the fresh 
country air for Amy, after expressing her pleasure in 
going, asked, — 

“ When do you start ? ” 

“We will meet at the Grand Central Station,” said 


A Trip to the Farm. 235 

Mrs. Carman, “ in time to take the nine o’clock 
train down.” 

When Amy came home from school, she danced for 
joy all around the room at the good news. 

“ To have Kitty go too ! ” she said. “ What a good 
time we shall have ! And now I can have my 
chickens.” 

Elliot came running over at noon to say, — 

“ I ’ll be right over, Amy, as soon as school is out, 
to help you fix up the chicken-yard.” 

“ All right,” said Amy. “ I ’ll be getting everything 
ready.” 

Elliot had a large flock of chickens on his mother’s 
place, the cause of much suffering to his Grandma 
Gaylord ; but none of these could he spare. Besides, 
he well knew that there was an unlimited supply of 
chickens, as of everything else, at the farm. 

The children hammered and pounded away all the 
afternoon on the old chicken-yard back of the Strongs’ 
stable, built some years ago, when Philip had a turn 
of the hen fever. Amy had a little box of carpenter’s 
tools of her own, and loved to try her hand at car- 
pentry, while Elliot was full of mechanical genius, 
and liked nothing better than making something. The 
chicken coops with which he had filled his mother’s 
back yard were quite wonderful specimens of archi- 
tecture, though Grandma Gaylord failed to admire 
them. She even said, — 

“ Maria, Elliot is ruining this place, with his coops 
and chickens littered all over it.” 

“ The boy must do something, mother,” said Mrs. 
Carman. “ So long as he does n’t do anything worse 
than build coops, we must try to put up with it.” 


236 


Jolly Good Times To-Day . 


Elliot and Amy were perfectly bappy this pleasant 
May afternoon, talking as they worked, building air 
castles about Amy’s chickens that rose as fast as the 
new coop. They hammered away, nailing on strips 
and pieces of board over every hole where the styest 
chicken might be imagined trying to squeeze through. 
If iron could make anything strong, that coop was 
strong, for they pounded into it the whole contents 
of Professor Strong’s large nail-box. 

The rear stall in the stable was fenced off with lath 
for a roost, — an arrangement dating back to Philip’s 
day. There was a little door in the rear, about ten 
feet from the ground. 

“We must make a ladder for the chickens to go up 
to roost on,” said Elliot. 

“ Why, they ’ll fly up, won’t they ? ” said Amy. 

“No,” said Elliot, who was wise with much chicken 
wisdom. “ They fly down ; but they must have a 
ladder to walk up on.” 

“ How cunning it will be to see them go up a ladder ! ” 
said Amy. “I can hardly wait till I get them.” 

Elliot made the ladder of a long strip of narrow 
board, across which he nailed little slats. This had 
just been successfully nailed in place, when Mrs. 
Strong came down to see how the young carpenters 
were progressing, and was startled to find Amy, who 
delighted to climb, up on this frail support, ten feet 
above the ground. 

“ Amy,” she exclaimed, “ come down instantly. If 
that board should give way, you might be seriously 
hurt.” 

“ I was only trying the chicken ladder to see if it 
was strong,” said Amy. 


A Trip to the Farm . 


237 


“ A chicken does n’t weigh quite so much as you,” 
said Mrs. Strong. 

“ Have n’t we fixed the coop and yard beautifully ? ” ■ 
said Amy, coming down and looking with admiration 
on the work she and Elliot had at last completed. 

“ It Certainly seems very strong,” said Mrs. Strong, 
smiling at the funny patchwork of boards and strips 
that looked so child-like. 

“ Papa will think it is very nice, I know,” said 
Amy. 

Mrs. Strong did not feel so sure of her husband’s 
admiration, but said nothing to cloud Amy’s satis- 
faction. 

Kitty and Kob were as delighted as Amy, and 
indeed Elliot, who could never go there often enough, 
at the prospect of a whole day at the farm. They 
spent the evening laying their plans and talking 
things over, and went to bed unusually early, in order 
to rise bright and early the next morning. 

In spite of the children’s having tempted fate by 
saying to each other, “ What if it should rain to-mor- 
row! ” Saturday morning was as bright and lovely a 
May day as was ever seen. There was much calling 
back and forth from the Clovers’ windows to Amy’s. 

“Oh, Kitty, chickens !” expressed Amy’s rapture. 

Mrs. Strong took an old gingham dress and old hat 
down that Amy might be free to play as hard as she 
chose, without thought of her clothes ; and Mrs. 
Clover made a similar package for Kitty. Long be- 
fore Mrs. Strong had packed her baskets, Amy, hat 
on, with a large covered basket on her lap, sat on the 
front porch, impatient to start. Kob and Kitty soon 
joined her. Poor Duke came over, too, evidently 
thinking he was to be one of the party. 


238 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


“ This basket is to bring my chickens back in,” said 
Amy. “ Peep, peep ! I can almost fancy I see them 
now ; ” and she lifted the cover and peeped into the 
basket. 

“ Seems to me we are going to be late for the train,” 
said Rob. 

“ I know it,” said Amy. “ I do wish mamma would 
hurry.” 

Mrs. Strong now appeared, bringing two baskets, 
one of which Rob was prompt in offering to cany lor 
her. She said, — 

“ You need not be anxious, children, for if *we miss 
the nine o’clock train, we can take the next. There 
is a train at half-past nine.” 

“ But think of losing half an hour of the farm ! ” 
exclaimed Amy. 

The children’s fears were groundless, for they had 
to wait some time at the station before appeared, first, 
Miss Lida Lawrence, sketch-book and paint-box in 
hand, and her brother Fred, a boy two years older 
than Elliot, bearing a heavy lunch-basket ; and then 
Mrs. Carman, Rose, and Elliot, quite laden down with 
baskets and packages. 

It was a very jolly party in the car going down. Mrs. 
Strong and Mrs. Carman, who were great friends and 
great talkers, and who, whenever they met, never 
quite finished all they had to say, sat in a seat to- 
gether, and made the most of this opportunity. 
Before them two seats were turned facing each other, 
and here were packed in the five children, full of talk 
and smiles and laugh and happiness. The young 
ladies had a seat in front of the children. Hardly 
had the train started when a young gentleman ap- 


A Trip to the Farm. 


239 


peared, and sitting down before the young ladies, 
seemed to be trying to make himself agreeable, not 
without success, judging by the laughter of the girls. " 

“ Who is that young gentleman talking to your 
sister ? ” asked Amy. 

“ It is Mr. Tom Paisley,” said Elliot. “ He ’s 
always coming to our house. I like him better than 
most of the fellows that come to call on Rose, because 
he has some sense. He likes to look at my collection, 
and sometimes he brings me things for it.” 

Rose Carman was so bright, so pretty, and so good, 
that if she had been cast away on a desert island, young 
men would immediately have sprung up around her 
on the spot, so her mother was not surprised at the 
appearance of Mr. Paisley. He soon came discreetly 
back and made himself agreeable to Mrs. Carman, not 
forgetting to exchange a few words with his friend 
Elliot ; and it developing that he had no pressing 
business on hand, and was pining for country air, 
he was invited to join the party. 

“ I ’m glad of that,” said Elliot, “ for now we shall 
have some one to help carry the baskets.” 

It seemed as if the train never would emerge from 
the maze of city streets, tall factories, and provok- 
ingly long lines of freight cars, that cut off all view. 
But at last they came out into the open, and 
there was the Ohio, quite close to the track, with 
ferry-boats plying across its broad yellow current, 
valiant little tugs pushing long rows of coal-boats 
loaded to the water’s edge, and a great river steamer 
puffing by, headed for New Orleans, — the whole an 
animated panorama that interested the children. 
Across the river rose the Kentucky hills, lovely in all 


240 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


the tender green and freshness of May. From the 
ferries, roads were seen to wind temptingly up and 
disappear among the green hills. 

“ The river is pretty high,” said Elliot. “ It will 
be a good while before Dr. Hough can take us hunt- 
ing for trilobites.” 

“ Oil, Elliot,” said Amy, giving her imagination rein, 
“ I believe I see one now, sticking out of the bank 
over there.” 

“ Pshaw ! ” said Elliot ; “ that ’s only a dead stick ; 
some brush lodged.” 

They left the train at “ Ackerman’s,” a little station- 
house standing alone in the green fields, as quiet as a 
country schoolhouse. They were the only persons 
visible except the station-master, in his shirt-sleeves, 
who returned to his work in a field near by as the 
train disappeared down the road. 

Mr. Paisley at once justified Elliot’s good opinion 
of him by taking possession of the two heaviest 
baskets. 

“ It is quite a walk up to the farm, and the sun is 
hot,” said Mrs. Carman, “so we will take it easily, 
and not hurry.” 

But this was not Elliot’s programme. He sped 
ahead, the other children trying to keep up with him, 
in almost as big a hurry to get to the farm as he ; but 
the sun beat down with great warmth on their backs. 

“ Hold up, Elliot,” said Fred. “ Don’t go so fast. 
This basket is heavy, I tell you.” 

“ That ’s so,” said Hob, whose face was red under 
his straw hat. “ Slow up a little, can’t you ? ” 

“ I ’in in a hurry to get there,” said Elliot. “ There ’s 
some new calves I have n’t seen yet.” 


A Trip to the Farm. 


241 


“ Well, you’re not afraid they ’ll grow up into cows 
before we get there, are you ? ” asked Fred, who was 
a stout boy on whom exercise told. 

This made all the children laugh, and Elliot slack- 
ened his pace. 

“ How pleasant it is down here,” said Kitty, “ and 
how sweet the air is ! It smells of flowers.” 

“ Don’t you feel let out ? ” asked Amy. “ There is 
so much room. Edgeton is country-ish, but this is the 
real country itself. I do love the country. What fun 
we will have to-day ! ” 

“I’d rather be on the farm than anywhere else,” 
said Elliot, and every one believed him. 

Meantime they had walked up a green lane from 
the main road, and now came to a stile. Over this 
they climbed into a grassy field. Then they went 
across the field, across the garden, by a pasture yard, 
where a dozen fine cows were grazing, past one of the 
big barns, and there at last was the little white farm- 
house nestled down under its tall poplars. Back of 
it rose a steep high hill, crowned on the summit 
with fine woods, from among which, to the south, 
peered the walls of a large stone building, looking 
like some old-world castle. Amy thought this very 
romantic, like stories she had read, and was rather 
disappointed to learn that her castle, which might 
have been full of enchanted ladies, was really a 
convent. 

The farmhouse stood on rising ground, and from its 
porch the view was wide, over smiling fields and 
woods and orchards. No other house was in sight, 
save the convent, far above. Overhead was the wide 
blue sky, undimmed by any one’s chimney smoke. No 

16 


242 Jolly Good Times To-Day. 

wonder the children felt “let out” in all this free 
expanse. 

They were decidedly the advance-guard of the 
party, coining in upon the farmer’s wife, who was 
making bread, before the older people were even in 
sight. 

“ Good-morning, Mrs. Schwab,” said Elliot. “We ’re 
awful thirsty. Is there any ice-water ? ” 

“ No ; and I can’t take my hands out of the bread 
just now to make any,” said Mrs. Schwab, a fat, good- 
natured German woman. “ But if you will take some 
tumblers and go down to the spring-house, you can get 
a cool drink.” 

The children followed Elliot down two or three 
steps, into the spring-house, which had been dug 
out of the side of the hill, and was made still cooler 
by a large maple that overhung its low roof. A 
spring that gushed out of the hillside was conducted 
across it in a shallow trough, in which sat pans of 
milk and crocks of butter. The water was deliciously 
cool, and so was the temperature of the spring-house 
after their warm walk ; and they lingered there, bath- 
ing their faces in the cool stream that flowed from the 
end of the trough. Here the mothers found them 
when they too at last came up. But Mr. Paisley and 
the young ladies dawdled incredibly along the way, 
and displayed a lack of enthusiasm about getting to 
the farm that surprised the children. 

“ Bring all your baskets in here where it is cool,” 
said Mrs. Carman, leading the way into a large room 
that served as both parlor and dining-room. “ You 
children can all scatter about now, and do what you 
like, so long as you don’t get into any mischief. 


A Trip to the Farm. 


243 


When luncheon is ready I will ring a bell, and you 
must all come promptly.’’ 

“They will hardly need much urging, judging by * 
their present appetites,” said Mrs. Strong, for the 
hungry boys were already calling for “ something to 
eat.” 

“The farm is always a great place for an appe- 
tite,” said Mrs. Carman. “Fortunately, we have 
enough provisions with us for any emergency.” 

Amy and Kitty hurried to change their dresses, and 
then ran off to find the boys, who, sandwiches in hand, 
had gone to the barn. 

The young ladies, with the useful Mr. Paisley to 
carry their paint-boxes and sketch-books, climbed the 
hill back of the house, and found a pleasant seat in 
the shade of a large oak, halfway up, where there 
was a charming view of the river valley, the river 
itself, and the picturesque Kentucky hills, — a scene 
the young ladies proposed transferring to their sketch- 
books. Mr. Paisley was evidently a young man of 
strong artistic tastes, so well contented did he seem, 
stretched on the grass in the shade near Miss Rose, 
admiring the painting as it went on. 

Mrs. Carman and Mrs. Strong sat on the porch until 
cool, and then, donning two of the old shade-hats 
which Mrs. Carman kept at the farm for the use of 
herself and friends, sauntered down into the orchard, 
whence there was a lovely view of the river. Here 
they sat chatting, and breathing the fragrance of the 
pink apple blossoms that hung over their heads. 

Not in these languid fashions were the children 
enjoying themselves. There were so many delight- 
ful things to be done, they hardly knew where to 


244 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 

begin. The girls found the boys at the barn, admir- 
ing two pretty little calves, of some rare imported 
breed. 

“ These calves are as tender as babies/’ said Elliot, 
“ and you have to be just as careful of them. This 
one was sick last week, and they gave it arnica, and 
fed it something out of a bottle, just like a baby.” 

“ They are so cunning,” said Kitty ; “ I wish I had 
one for a pet.” 

“I guess you don’t know what you are talking 
about,” said Elliot. “Why, papa was offered a 
thousand dollars for this calf as soon as it was 
born.” 

“Whew!” said Fred. “I’m afraid to stay near 
anything so valuable.” 

“ You need n’t laugh, Fred Lawrence ; it ’s so. And 
papa refused the thousand dollars. He is going to 
raise it himself.” 

“ Let ’s get away from here quick,” said Fred. 
“ What if I should happen to kill that calf acci- 
dentally ? Can’t we play on the hay ? ” 

“Yes, of course we can,” said Elliot. “Come on.” 

One of the mows in the big barn was still quite 
high. Climbing up on a staging, the children reached 
the top of this mow, and vied with one another in 
seeing who could jump farthest on the barn floor 
below. 

The girls were not outdone by the boys ; but pres- 
ently Amy, taking a flying leap, fell on the floor in a 
heap, with a cry of pain. 

“ Are you hurt, Amy ? What ’s the matter ? ” 
cried the others, running to help her. 

Amy rose, holding her cheek, which was red and 


A Trip to the Farm. 245 

bruised, tears in her eyes, but putting on a brave 
smile. 

“ My knee bumped into my cheek awful hard,” she 
said, “ but I guess it will feel better pretty soon.” 

“ Come to the pump and put some water on it,” 
said Elliot. 

Here one of the hired men appeared and told 
Elliot he mustn’t climb on the hay, as the fastidious 
horses would not eat it if trampled on. 

“ I don’t care about any more jumping, anyway,” 
said Fred. “ It ’s too warm work this hot weather.” 

“ ISTor I,” said Rob. “ My back is all full of hay- 
seed now.” 

“ I ’m very sure I ’ve had enough of jumping for a 
while,” said Amy. 

Out in the barnyard, a big farm-wagon was stand- 
ing. The boys gave the girls a ride in that. Then 
they* all went to see the chickens. There were many 
motherly bid hens with big flocks of cunning little 
chickens, not shut up in coops, but clucking about in 
the wide freedom of the whole farm. The children 
particularly admired the white bantams. They were 
so tame that Elliot easily caught three, — a tiny roos- 
ter and two little hens, — and put them in a coop, that 
they might be ready to go into Amy’s basket when she 
went home. Amy could hardly realize that these 
treasures were really hers, and found it difficult to 
tear herself away from them. 

“ Come on, Amy,” said Kitty. “ The boys are 
going down to see the horses. Those chickens will 
keep; they can’t get away.” 

“ I know it,” said Amy ; “ and I don’t have a whole 
day on the farm very often. But they are so sweet.” 


246 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


Away she raced with Kitty, after the boys, down 
through one edge of the orchard to the horse-pasture. 
No horses were in sight. 

“ You girls stay here,” said Elliot ; “ and we boys 
will find the horses and drive them up.” 

“ Let ’s get on the fence,” said Kitty. 

The girls perched themselves on the top rail of the 
high fence, — a pleasant seat in the sweet shade of 
blossoming apple boughs, with a* glimpse of the great 
river through the leaves. 

Presently there was a whooping and halloing in 
the distance, and from behind a clump of woods up 
the hill galloped six or eight young horses, with the 
boys not far behind. They were high-blooded Ken- 
tucky horses, with glossy dark skins, slender of limb, 
graceful and beautiful, with tossing manes, spirited 
eyes, and quivering nostrils, and they charged straight 
at the fence. The girls hastily scrambled down on 
the other side. 

“You needn’t be afraid of them,” said Elliot. 
“ They ’re as gentle as kittens, and they ’re used to 
being petted. They think you will feed them.” 

The girls soon found that Elliot spoke truly. The 
horses, wild and high-spirited as they looked, ate out 
of their hands, and seemed to enjoy being patted and 
stroked as much as the children enjoyed petting 
them. They seemed so gentle that Fred, who was 
stroking the nose of a high-spirited bay, felt moved to 
say, — 

“ I ’ve a good mind to hop on this old fellow’s 
back. I don’t believe he would mind it, and I could 
hang on by his mane easily enough, anyway.” 

“ Now, you ’d better not do anything of the sort,” 


A Trip to the Farm. 


247 


said Elliot. “You’d find yourself over his head so 
quick you would n’t know what had happened to you. 
If it didn’t hurt you, it might injure the colt. Papa 
would n’t like it.” 

The question was, luckily for Fred, decided at that 
moment by the horses themselves, who, suddenly 
startled by some sound or movement, threw up their 
heads, and dashed away, the cantering hoofs shaking 
the ground, disappearing behind the woods. 

The children climbed about in the apple-trees for a 
while, — trees which seemed to grow expressly for 
climbing. Then they found some long boards near 
the fence. One of these, put across the fence, made 
a capital teeter. The two girls and Rob, on one end, 
exactly balanced Elliot and Fred on the other, Elliot’s 
slimness being quite made up by Fred’s stoutness. 
They seesawed up and down with great pleasure 
until the distant tinkle of a bell was heard. 

“ Lunch ! ” shouted Fred, jumping off the teeter 
without warning, thus letting the other end down 
with a thud that jarred the bones of Rob and Amy, 
while Kitty, who was on the end, hit her head against 
a stone as she fell. 

“ I declare, that ’s too bad,” said Fred. “ I did n’t 
mean to do that. I didn’t think, I was so hungry.” 

Kitty laughed and said her forehead did n’t hurt 
much, although a lump was already swelling up on it, 
and away they all raced for the house. As they 
ran, the convent bell rang musically out from the 
height above. 

“ That sounds like ‘ Monastery Bells,’ that Faith 
plays,” said Amy. 

The luncheon was delightful, having all the infor- 


248 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


mality of a picnic combined with the comforts of chairs, 
a table, and table-cloth, plenty of dishes, and a cool, 
pleasant room to eat in. The farmer’s wife, Mrs. 
Schwab, had made some fragrant coffee ; and there 
were great pitchers of delicious creamy milk fresh 
from the spring-house, all they could drink, and 
sweet butter from the spring-house too. This, with 
their own rolls and sandwiches, veal loaf and Saratoga 
chips, pickles, jelly, olives and devilled eggs, cake 
and cookies, made an excellent luncheon, especially 
for children who had eaten an unusually early break- 
fast, and been playing hard in the fresh air ever 
since. 

Fred made Mrs. Carman and Mrs. Strong laugh 
by exclaiming, after the first edge of his hunger had 
been taken off, — 

“Amy and Kitty can climb almost as well as 
boys.” 

“Of course they can,” said Mrs. Carman. “Girls 
are not to be outdone by boys in anything, these 
days.” 

“ This is called the woman’s age, Fred,” said Mrs. 
Strong, “ and the girls are climbing hard and fast, in 
many ways. They will go ahead of the boys yet, if 
the boys do not exert themselves.” 

“No girl can outclimb me,” said Fred, proudly, as a 
half-egg disappeared at one mouthful. 

After luncheon the children discovered that Mrs. 
Schwab had an interesting family of four kittens, 
and a cunning baby just beginning to toddle about ; 
and they were content to stay on the porch in the 
shade for a while and play with the baby and kittens, 
thus doing Mrs. Schwab a good turn by keeping the 


A Trip to the Farm. 


249 


baby out of her way while she washed the dishes. 
Then they went out to see the flock of young turkeys, 
the first they had ever seen, and some little pigs that 
were found “ too cunning,” from whom it was hard to 
tear themselves away. Elliot took them to see the 
acre covered with thriving strawberry plants, and 
other acres covered with choice varieties of black- 
berries and raspberries. All were white with starry 
blossoms that gave promise of abundant good times 
coming for the Carmans and their friends, and made 
the children feel that they should much enjoy a trip 
to the farm in berry time. 

Here too they saw a field of alfalfa growing, Mr. 
Carman considering this California grass particularly 
nourishing for stock. There had been no end to Mr. 
Carman’s experiments. He made Catawba wine, 
among other things; and the hillside back of the 
farmhouse was terraced halfway up, and set thick 
with thrifty young vines, covered now with swelling 
leaf-buds. 

“ If we mean to get any wild flowers to take home, 
it is time we were picking them,” said Elliot. 
“ There ’s lots of them up on the hill, in the edge 
of the woods.” 

Up the hill toward the woods at the top, the chil- 
dren pressed, although it was so steep it made their 
legs ache, and the sun beat hot on their backs. At 
the top they sat down in the edge of the woods to 
rest and cool themselves. The view well repaid 
them for the climb. Below lay “the farm ” and other 
farms, — a smiling prospect of fertile fields green 
with the freshness of spring, and woods lovely in all 
the delicate hues of May foliage. There was a long 


250 


Jolly Good Times To-Day . 


stretch of the broad Ohio in sight, with here and 
there a steamboat stemming its yellow current. The 
Kentucky hills bounded the southern view ; and over 
all was the broad expanse of blue sky across which 
soft white clouds drifted lazily. 

“ The sun shines in my eyes so I can hardly see,” 
said Fred. “ It is getting down in the west.” 

“ I guess we ’d best hurry and pick our wild flowers 
if we want any,” said Kob, “ or we may have to go 
home without them.” 

“ There comes a train now,” said Kitty. 

The children stopped to watch the train, winding 
along through the landscape below, looking like a 
toy train, its dark smoke still lingering on the air 
long after it had disappeared, and then fell to pick- 
ing the pretty flowers w'hich grew in great patches 
here and there in the shelter of the woods. Besides 
the smaller flowers, they broke off branches of the 
glowing red bud, and even some boughs of apple 
blossoms, until they could carry no more. As they 
started down the hill, their speed was hastened by 
a shout from the two mothers below, who were 
waving handkerchiefs and beckoning. The children 
ran. 

“ You must hurry as fast as you can,” cried Mrs. 
Carman, as soon as they were within hearing. “It 
is late, and we may miss the train. Mr. Paisley and 
the girls have gone on to the station now.” 

“Oh, dear!” said Amy, “I’m sorry to have this 
day come to an end.” 

“ So am I,” came in a chorus from the others. 

“ But then I shall have my chickens,” said Amy. 

“ We ’ll help you carry them, Amy,” said Rob. 


A Trip to the Farm . 


251 


“Oh, thank you, but I can carry them myself,” 
said Amy, jealous of this precious privilege. 

There proved to be enough for every one to carry, 
however, for Mrs. Carman had filled all the baskets 
with freshly cut asparagus to be taken home. The 
girls reluctantly took off the torn and dirty ginghams 
in which they had had so much fun ; the boys were 
made to wash and brush themselves into some faint 
resemblance of civilized beings, and then the party 
hurried toward the station. 

Suddenly a distant whistle was heard, while they 
were still in the lane. 

“ There ’s the train now,” said Mrs. Carman. 

By common impulse, they all began to run, although 
knowing it was useless. The train only stopped an 
instant, and was disappearing far up the track when 
the company, puffing and panting, straggled up on 
the platform of the little station, where Mr. Paisley 
and the young ladies were waiting for them. 

“ I am so glad we missed the train,” said Amy. 

“ So am I,” said Kitty. 

“ So am I,” said Mr. Paisley, laughing. 

The artists now amused themselves by sketching 
Mr. Paisley, with his hat trimmed with flowers. 
Amy finally consented to deposit on the platform 
the precious basket holding the three bantams, and 
join the other children in a walking-match on the 
rails of the track, while the mothers kept a vigilant 
eye and ear open for a possible freight train. 

It was really very pleasant, it seemed so peaceful 
and quiet, so far from the noisy world, so unlike a 
railroad station. There was no one there but them- 
selves, no sound but the birds singing their good- 


252 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 

night songs in the fields and woods around them. 
The sun had set, and the cool twilight was restful 
and refreshing. 

By-and-by, to the children’s regret, the far off 
whistle of another train was heard. They hastened to 
pick up their bouquets and baskets, and climbed on 
board as the train stopped, the subject of some 
friendly smiles on the part of the passengers aboard, 
who did not need to be told that this was a home- 
going picnic party. The unnatural quiet of the tired 
children spoke for that. 

Not only the children, but some of the passengers 
sitting near, laughed when suddenly from Amy’s 
basket, the bantam rooster was plainly heard to re- 
mark, in an encouraging tone, — 

“ Cutta-cutta-cut.” 

“Do hear that dear boy,” said Amy. “ He ’s try- 
ing to comfort the hens, and keep up their spirits.” 

It was seven o’clock by the time they had made 
the trip, not only to the city, but across it, and out 
home on the electric cars. The children were too 
tired to eat any dinner, but not to go down with Amy 
to her chicken-house, and help her introduce the ban- 
tams to their new home and watch them safely to bed 
on the roost. Then they gladly tumbled into bed, too 
tired even to dream of the delights of the long, happy 
day. 


Chickens. 


253 


CHAPTER XIX. 


CHICKENS. 


MY named the bantam rooster “ King Ichabod,” 



and the pretty little hens, not so large as doves, 
‘‘Mrs. Cockletop” and the “Princess Rosette.” She 
spent much time with them, studying their habits and 
dispositions. After seeing them go to roost, she 
came in to announce the interesting discovery that 
they “shut up their eyes from the bottom.” The 
devout spirit with which they lifted their heads in 
drinking, as if in thanksgiving, was much admired. 

“ Amy Strong’s chickens ” became an object of 
interest to all the little children on the avenue, and 
Amy sometimes had more help in caring for them 
than she wanted. But she was gentle and pleasant 
to the little ones if they did bother her. Dixon 
was much absorbed by the chickens, and spent much 
time philosophically studying them. Amy was 
startled by finding him one evening in the stable, 
sitting alone, contemplating the roost, when she went 
down to see her flock the last thing at night. 

“ I have never seen a hen on the roost before,” 
said Dixon. 

Duke, who always chased chickens, seemed to 
know as well as any one that these were the property 
of his friend Amy, and not to be touched. He often 


254 Jolly Good Times To-Day. 

went down with her to feed them. When they were 
let out for air and exercise, he pricked up his ears 
and looked at them wistfully, evidently longing to 
send them cackling down the hill, but, looking up at 
Amy, wagged his tail, and said as plainly as dog 
could say, — 

“ You can trust me, Amy.” 

“ Good old fellow, good Duke,” said Amy, patting 
his head in reward of his virtue. 

One night at dusk, Professor Strong happened to 
look out of the library window, and was dismayed to 
see lights moving about his stable. 

“ This will never answer,” he said, and hastened 
down to see what was going on. 

He found Kitty holding a kitchen candle in each 
hand, high up, to light the stable for Amy, who, far 
up on a ladder, was arranging the chickens on the 
roost. 

“ Amy,” said her father, “ this is very dangerous. 
This will never do. A spark might set the stable on 
fire, and we should forfeit our insurance, besides the 
danger of the fire spreading to the houses. What are 
you doing ? ” 

“I’m putting the chickens to bed, papa.” 

“ Entirely unnecessary. They will not thank you 
for it. They would much rather go to roost by 
themselves.” 

“ The trouble is, papa, that King Ichabod is partial 
to Mrs. Cockletop, and he always will roost beside 
her, and leave poor Princess Kosette all alone, and I 
don’t think it ’s right. Such a beautiful chicken as 
Princess Kosette is, too. I think he ought to roost 
between them, and I ’m putting him there.” 


Chickens. 


255 


“ You must use a lantern after this,” said her 
father, laughing, as the chickens submitted to be 
handled and put wherever Amy wished. 

They were so tame that they ate out of her hand, 
and let her carry them about, to the admiration of 
the other children. When she opened the corn bar- 
rel, King Ichabod was wont to fly in; and it being 
impossible to “ shoo ” him out, the only way was to 
lift him out bodily. He was a most consequential 
little body, strutting around, rending the air and 
every one’s ears by his shrill, discordant notes of defi- 
ance to all the big roosters of the neighborhood. 
He crowed so mightily he almost tipped over back- 
wards. But his shrill notes were music in Amy’s ears. 

“ Do hear that King Ichabod ! Is n’t he a dear ? ” 
was her frequent remark. She could crow in perfect 
imitation of him, and one of her amusements was to 
crow and make him answer her. The childish voice 
out in the summer air, crowing gayly, sounded so 
happy that Mrs. Strong often said, — 

“ I am really glad we let Amy have the chickens, 
she takes so much comfort with them. ” 

One day, Amy, just home from school, having run 
down to see the chickens the first thing, came racing 
into the house out of breath with running and excite- 
ment. 

“ Great news ! ” she panted. “ What do you think ? 
Mrs. Cockletop has laid an egg ! See, what a little 
beauty. ” 

Opening her hand, she displayed a pretty little 
white egg. 

“You might have that little egg cooked for your 
luncheon, ” said her mother, thinking it would please 
Amy. 


256 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


“ The idea, mamma ! I would n’t think of such a 
thing. What would Mrs. Cockletop think of me if I 
ate her nice little egg ! I am going down this after- 
noon to see if she has laid another.” 

Amy was disappointed when her mother told her 
that hens never laid two eggs a day. “ Although, ” said 
Mrs. Strong, “ it was said of the hen of old Grimes, 
‘ On Sundays she laid three, ’ but this is a tradition 
that has never been confirmed.” 

Amy would now eat no chicken. 

“ But, Amy, these are not your chickens, ” was urged 
in vain. 

“No, ” said Amy ; “my chickens would know it if I 
ate chicken, and they would n’t love me any more.” 

One day Amy came in to report, — 

“ Oh, mamma, what do you think ? Mrs. Cockletop 
will not get off of her nest. She stays there all the 
time. I thought she must be sick, but Elliot says she 
is setting, and that she wants I should put some eggs 
under her, and then she will hatch out some little 
chickens. Won’t that be delightful ? ” 

Elliot was a high authority on the subject of chick- 
ens, and often came over to advise Amy. 

“ I ’m not sure about it ’s being wholly delightful, ” 
said Mrs. Strong. 

“ But may I set her ? ” asked Amy. “ I should so 
love to have some cunning little chickens.” 

Her mother having consented, though with what 
Amy felt a painful want of enthusiasm on such an 
interesting subject, Amy set the hen on five bantam 
eggs, all she had, and four eggs from Esmond’s 
grocery, of some unknown breed. Mrs. Cockletop 
was barely able to cover this mixture of nine eggs. 


Chickens. 


257 


But being a determined little body, she bent all her 
energies to the task, and did her best. The Princess 
Rosette was also set soon after. 

“ I can hardly wait three whole weeks to see my 
little chickens, ” said Amy. “It seems like years. 7 ’ 

Amy had lately discovered a new way of coming 
home from school that pleased her greatly, because it 
“ seemed so adventurous and country like, ” she said, 
and also because she could walk the first part of the 
way with her cousin Marguerite, thus bringing up 
some of the arrears of talk the girls never found half 
enough time for at school. After parting with Mar- 
guerite, she took a cross street or two that brought 
her into Brook Street. Here there was a convenient 
gap in the fence, which let her into the field that 
joined her father’s place in the rear. Running down 
the hill, she had only to climb the fence, jump the 
brook, and there she was at home, able to call on the 
chickens conveniently as she passed their abode. 
She lent interest to the new road in her own way. 

“I’ve named all the places along my way,” she 
told her mother. “ The corner of Briggs Street and 
Ash Avenue I call Breeze Point, because the wind 
always blows my hat off there if I’m not careful. 
The first corner of Brooks Street is Apple Corner, 
because I always begin to eat my apple there. Where 
I climb the fence is Point Lookout, and our hill is 
Chicken Hill.” 

How lovely every child looks to its mother ! Mrs. 
Strong, laughing a little at her own foolish fondness, 
used nevertheless often to stand in the bay-window 
mornings to watch Amy going to school until the 
turn hid her from sight. The little figure with the 
17 


258 


Jolly Good Times To-Day . 


long bright hair floating out from under the jaunty 
brown hat, stepping along so lightly, now in the 
morning sunshine, now in the elm-trees’ waving 
shade, looked so pretty to her. Amy always carried 
her slender form so erect and lightly, as if she walked 
to the sound of music unheard by grosser natures, — 
“ to some tune by fairies played.” 

Mrs. Strong was also quite apt to be sitting at the 
back library window when it was time for Amy to 
come from school, that she might catch through the 
trees the first glimpse of the bright little figure with 
the blue school bag, running down the opposite hill 
and up to the chicken-house. 

At last, when the three weeks had expired to a day, 
as Amy well knew, after a longer tarry at the chicken- 
house than usual, she came in, saying joyfully, — 

“ Mrs. Cockletop has some little chickens at last ! 
I saw two of them, the dearest, sweetest little things 
you ever saw. And there is the bill of another 
sticking out of an egg, — so cunning. I ’m afraid it 
can’t get out. I wanted to pick the shell and help it 
out, but Mrs. Cockletop would n’t let me. You never 
saw any one so cross and unreasonable. She actually 
pecked my hand, when I only wanted to help her.” 

“ If you want her to hatch out the rest of the eggs, 
Amy, you must suppress yourself a little while 
longer,” said her mother. “ Keep away, and leave 
Mrs. Cockletop to manage her own affairs.” 

“ I can’t wait to see them,” said Amy ; “ but I sup- 
pose I must.” 

“ I can tell you something to divert your mind,” 
said her mother, — “ a very great piece of news.” 

“ Oh, what is it, mamma ? Has papa bought a dog ? ” 


Chickens. 


259 


“ Hardly,” said her mother, laughing. “ I had a 
letter from Philip this morning, and he and Gladys 
are coming home to visit us. They will be here the 
last of this week.” 

“ Oh, goody, goody, goody ! ” cried Amy, dancing 
around the room, so delighted she could hardly 
express her joy. 

“ Better yet,” continued her mother, “ Gladys is 
going to sing here, at the great concert at Music 
Hall, this week.” 

“ Oh, how perfectly rapturous ! Shall we go ? ” 

“Of course we shall. They will only arrive in 
season for the concert, so we shall see Gladys for the 
first time when she comes on to sing in Music Hall.” 

“ How interesting and exciting it will be ! I wish 
Kitty and Irene could go with us.” 

“ I should be very hapjry to take the girls, if their 
mothers consent.” 

Here Amy heard Kitty’s voice outside, and dashed 
out the door, and rattled off the exciting news so fast, 
mixing chickens, company, and concert, that Kitty 
could hardly grasp it all at first. 

Amy now had so much to occupy her mind that Mrs. 
Cockletop was allowed to hatch the rest of her brood 
in peace. She came off with a brood of six chickens, 
three bantams, and three of some larger breed. Amy 
named the bantams “ Father Dorcas,” “ Mother 
Dorcas,” and “the Lady Rowena,” and the others 
‘‘Cockletop Junior,” and “Mr. and Mrs. Chickabod.” 
The Princess Rosette soon came off with three 
chickens, which Amy named “ Queen Anne,” 
“Victoria,” and “Rebecca.” Elliot helped her build 
coops on the broad part of the driveway near the 
stable. 


260 


Jolly Good Times To-Day . 


“ I call that part of the driveway ‘ Palace Court, ’ ” 
said Amy, “ because Mrs. Cockletop and the Princess 
hold their court there.” 

At this popular court, receptions were always in 
order, Amy herself being in almost constant atten- 
dance out of school, while the children of the avenue 
could not sufficiently admire the cunning little 
chickens. 

There was always a group of bright little heads and 
hats bobbing around the coops, and busy little fingers 
pushing choice offerings into the coops, or trying in 
vain to catch the dear chickens, who were, luckily, 
usually too spry for their admirers. 

“What do you suppose I found Phyllis doing to- 
day, when I came home from school ? ” asked Amy. 
“As I came up the hill, I heard Mrs. Cockletop 
cackling so loud that I was afraid one of those wild 
cats under the stable had caught one of her chickens. 
I ran up there as fast as I could. There was Phyllis, 
working hard, poking something into the coop. It 
was a brick ! Phyllis said she was putting it in for 
the old hen to sit down on. She thought she must be 
tired, standing up all the time ! ” 

Amy particularly enjoyed seeing the hens put their 
children to bed. It gave her a peaceful feeling to see 
the old hen spread herself out comfortably, and 
gather her chickens under her wings, a restless little 
head sticking out from the soft feathers here and 
there, sometimes way up on her back, the mother 
quieting them with soft brooding notes. 

“ Hear her sing them to sleep,” said Amy to Kitty, 
as the two friends squatted admiringly before the 
Princess’s coop. “ I suppose she is singing the hens’ 


Chickens. 


261 


‘ Hush, my dear, lie still and slumber, 

Holy angels guard thy bed.’ ” 

“ Hens don’t have angels,” said the practical Kitty. 

“You don’t know. They might,” said Amy. 
“But when I go up to Our Land to-night, I shall 
order the Bulusk to send four of my fairy guards 
down here to protect them. They are dressed like 
Brownies, you know. Won’t they look cunning, 
standing each side of the coop ? ” 


262 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


CHAPTER XX. 


THE CONCERT. 


HE cherry season was always a time of activity 



i and anxiety on Hillside Avenue, — activity on 
the part of the children, and anxiety on the part of 
the mothers, and also, it must be confessed, of the 
owners of cherry-trees. All the older places on the 
avenue were rich in cherry-trees, which produced 
abundantly. This year the cherry-trees up and down 
the avenue had been masses of white bloom, looking 
like giant bouquets scattered along the hillsides, or 
overhanging the sidewalk. The cherry season was 
evidently going to be abundant, and all the children 
were impatient for its coming. 

Eor Amy and her intimate friends the time of 
waiting was beguiled by the excitement of the ap- 
proaching visit of Philip and Gladys, and the much- 
anticipated concert. Amy had talked so much about 
Philip and his wife to Kitty, Irene, and the rest, that 
they felt a personal interest in the affair, almost as if 
it were their dear brother who was coming home 
after a long absence, and their new sister who was to 
sing at tfrfe concert. 

The day of the concert came at last; and at last Amy, 
with her parents and Irene and Kitty, was Sitting in 
Music Hall, in a state of much inward agitation. 
Amy was quite pale with excitement, and full of 


The Concert. 


263 


nervous giggles. It was her concert. She felt the 
responsibility of it all, as it were, and so conspicuous 
that she insisted on attempting to conceal herself 
by sitting between Kitty and Irene. How wonder- 
ful it was to see the name in large letters on the 
programme, — 

“GLADYS VAN DYKE.” 

“ I ’m afraid Gladys will see me when she comes out 
to sing,” said Amy, feeling so diffident for Gladys 
that it seemed as if Gladys must share her feeling. 

The opening orchestral numbers were played with 
masterly skill ; but so far as Amy was concerned, and 
possibly Professor Strong and wife too, the exquisite 
melodies might as well have been the brazen blarings 
of a country brass band. 

Then came the pause; the conductor departed. 
Amy’s heart seemed to stand still. Re-enter the 
conductor, escorting Gladys. A sweet young girl, 
simply but tastefully dressed, with wonderful great 
dark eyes that lent added beauty to a face full of 
charm, — such was Amy’s new sister. 

“ Is n’t she pretty ? She is perfectly beautiful, 
Amy,” whispered Kitty and Irene on either side, 
while Amy’s heart, from seeming to stand still, now 
beat as if it would jump out of her altogether. 

It was a moment of intense suspense as Gladys 
stood there quietly, with simply folded hands, while 
the orchestra played the prelude, and the crowded 
house waited breathlessly the first notes of the new 
singer. Music Hall was well known to be peculiarly 
trying to the voice. Voices good and ample in or- 
dinary halls were lost in its vast space. What if 


264 


Jolly Good Times To-Day . 


Gladys’s voice should prove sweet, but weak and inade- 
quate ? What if she should be a failure ! 

The girlish figure looked so slight, so young, stand- 
ing alone on the platform in the great hall, with 
every eye fastened on her, every opera-glass critically 
scanning her, her friends might well tremble for her. 

But all fears vanished at the first notes of the 
glorious voice, that soared up above the orchestra 
with the ease and naturalness of a bird singing and 
swinging on a bough, and the simplicity which is the 
perfection of artistic finish, — a voice whose notes 
penetrated the remotest corners of Music Hall, yet so 
full, so rich, so sympathetic, that you drew a long 
breath of delighted satisfaction at the close. The 
applause that followed was tremendous. Ho one 
clapped longer or harder than Amy and her friends, 
freely sacrificing their gloves in the good cause. 

The enthusiastic audience insisted on three en- 
cores. And now there was another excitement for 
Amy. Philip came out to play the accompaniment 
for these songs, — good old Philip, looking so natural, 
exactly as he did when he used to play “Peekabo” 
for Amy, long ago. How strange it was, after so 
many years’ absence, to see him again first on the 
platform of Music Hall, as if he were anybody else ! 

The home-coming after the concert was a great 
happiness to every one. Philip was found to be the 
same dear Philip, just as good and kind and affec- 
tionate to his little sister and every one as of old ; and 
Gladys proved a most fascinating person, as good and 
bright as she was pretty, and as lovable as she was 
lovely. Philip was so glad to be at home again ; and 
both he and Gladys, after three years of Europe 


The Concert. 


265 


and the constraint of hotels, boarding-houses, and 
public life generally, enjoyed greatly all the home 
cooking and comforts, the ease and unconstraint, that 
the very name “home” implies. They found much 
pleasure, too, in the freedom and delights of country 
life. 

Amy brought in all her little friends to introduce 
to them ; and Gladys and Philip entered with interest 
into their affairs, even attending a special perform- 
ance of “ The Witch’s Curse,” given in the Strongs’ 
attic for their benefit. They went for wild-flowers 
with Amy ; and, as Amy said, they “ appreciated the 
chickens,” and found much pleasure in feeding and 
watching the cunning little things. The Princess 
Kosette was now a funny sight with her family, who 
all proved to be of a larger breed, and threatened 
soon to outgrow her protecting care. When she tried 
to brood them under her wings, the little mother was 
tossed about by her turbulent youngsters, like a small 
boat on a stormy sea. 

Philip renewed the pleasures of his youth by mow- 
ing the lawn ; and Gladys helped rake up the grass, 
looking so pretty under the trees, with a picturesque 
hat on, that Mrs. Strong said it was like a scene 
from an opera. The Strongs now revelled in musical 
evenings, when Amy was allowed to sit up late, and 
when the neighbors all sat out on their porches or 
sauntered carelessly up and down in front of the 
house, to catch something of the exquisite music 
which overflowed from the Strongs’ parlor. It would 
not do to ask Philip to sing “ Peekabo ” now ; indeed, 
Amy’s own musical taste had improved somewhat 
since the old days, but she often teased him, — 


266 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


“ Philip, won’t you please sing the laughing song ? ” 

This was the solo from Faust, wherein Philip, as 
Mephistopheles, rendered the “ Ha, ha,” with so 
much power and such sneering, fiendish mirth that 
Mrs. Strong said he seemed really wicked for the 
time being. But Amy never tired of it. 

A great thing that Philip did for Amy on this 
visit was to show her how to use her dollar camera, 
and to make her a capital “ dark room ” out of the 
closet under the stable stairs, fitting it up with 
shelves and all necessary conveniences for photog- 
raphy. To every one’s surprise it was found that 
the little camera would actually take pictures, and 
.very good ones too, not at all to be despised ; so now 
Amy had a new and absorbing pursuit. 

Philip took excellent pictures of Gladys and Amy 
in all parts of the grounds, — you could not put 
Gladys anywhere but that she made a pretty picture ; 
and Amy took pictures of Gladys and Philip in 
many varied attitudes. She was delighted with this 
new pleasure. 

“ It is so fascinating,” she said, “ to develop the 
plates, when you begin to see the picture coming out 
dimly, and you never know what it will look like.” 

This was indeed true of Amy’s photographs. 
There was a decided element of uncertainty about 
them. Once she took what would have been a beauti- 
ful picture of Irene, only, by mistake, she had used a 
plate on which was already a view of her house, so 
that when the plate was developed, to the great 
amusement of Amy and the other children, Irene 
appeared calmly sitting on top of Professor Strong’s 
house. 


The Concert. 


267 


She delighted Mr. Green by taking his picture, — 
a splendid success, only she had aimed the camera 
too low, and the upper part of his head was omitted. 
Professor Strong was induced to sit for his picture 
in one of the porch chairs on the lawn. The lawn 
sloped, and the camera was aimed rather low. Con- 
sequently the picture presented a fine view of the 
professor’s boots, much enlarged, to which were 
attached a pair of unnaturally long legs, the pro- 
fessor’s body and head diminishing away in the 
background. 

But Amy was very persevering ; and after a while 
she mastered the art, at least so far as to be able to 
take very pretty pictures of all her friends. She 
took a fine group of Kitty sitting on the ground with 
Duke lying across her lap, and Irene in a most dra- 
matic position, and Kitty again, with Irene, Bob, and 
Bessie Paxton on the teeter ; and as for Phyllis, Bonald, 
and Jack, they were taken on the garden-seat, and up 
in the cherry-tree, and lying in the tall grass, and in 
all conceivable groups and positions. 

" I am more than suspicious that your dollar camera 
is going to be one of papa’s camels,” said Mrs. Strong 
one day. She was going into town, and Amy had 
modestly requested, — 

“Won’t you please just step into Prince’s, mamma, 
and buy me another bottle of developer, and some 
blue paper, and some of the other kind, and some 
cards to mount my photographs on?” 

"Is that all ?” asked her mother, laughing. 

" Why, I do need two more trays badly ; and you 
might as well get a little proto-sulphate of iron, for 
that’s almost gone.” 


268 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


“ A dollar camera sounds very inexpensive,” said 
Mrs. Strong ; “ but that is only the beginning of sor- 
rows, it seems.” 

“ But it is such fun, mamma.” 

This was an unanswerable argument, for Mrs. 
Strong could not refuse any reasonable happiness 
within her means to the bright young life that was 
the joy and sunshine of the house ; and photography, 
keeping Amy outdoors so much, was a most healthful 
diversion for her. 

Before Gladys and Philip returned to New York, 
they revealed a plan for the summer which, if carried 
out, would be, Amy felt, the crowning happiness of 
her life. Philip put it in this way, — 

“ In the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, there is 
a town, Plymouth by name ; you may possibly have 
heard of it.” 

“ Oh, I know,” burst in Amy, eagerly ; “ the Pil- 
grims landed there.” 

“ Bight,” said Philip. “Now, we propose to imi- 
tate the Pilgrims, and land there ourselves, if all our 
plans come to pass. For in Plymouth there is a 
large pond, — in fact, there are several. But in this 
particular pond there is an island; and on that island 
there is a cottage, a furnished cottage, which the 
owner, being absent in California this summer, is 
willing to rent for a consideration. I am going down 
to see this island ; and if it proves to be as desirable 
as I think, we shall take it for the summer. If we 
do, we shall want you all to come down and stay as 
long as you can. How would that suit you, Amy ? ” 

“Oh, Philip,” said Amy, whose eyes had been 
growing larger and more shining as Philip went on, 


The Concert. 


269 


“I never heard of anything so delightful ! To really 
live on an island! How romantic! How splendid! 
It’s too good to come true.” B 

“Perhaps not,” said Philip. “We will see. I 
thought the scheme would suit you.” 

And when he and Gladys went away, Gladys waved 
her hand from the carriage window, and cried, — 

“ Good-by, until we meet on the island.” 

Amy’s talk and dreams now were all of island life ; 
and she passed her evenings drawing scenes in which 
her father was seen pulling impossible fish up into 
still more impossible boats, her mother, sitting under 
a convenient willow-tree on the water’s edge, was 
reading or sketching, Gladys and Philip were rowing 
picturesquely about, while Amy herself was wading 
in the pond, or rowing a huge boat with an apparent 
speed that cast in the shade the best spurts of the 
Harvard crew. 


270 


Jolly Good Times To-Day . 


CHAPTER XXI. 


“ CHERRIES RIPE.” 


HE cherry season had come at last. Hot by any 



i means that the cherries were ripe. The boys of 
Hillside Avenue did not wait for that formality before 
opening the season. Cherries were so slow, and took 
their own time as deliberately as if trees full of birds, 
and a street full of boys, were not dying of impatience 
for them to ripen. The moment they showed a red 
spot on one side, the boys and the birds began on 


them. 


Two of the largest and fullest trees on the street 
stood on Professor Evarts’s place. Mrs. Evarts, who, 
though having no children herself, loved children, 
and was very kind to them, carefully considered the 
situation, and told her husband her conclusion. 

“ I think the best plan will be to make an agree- 
ment with the children. If they will wait until the 
cherries are fully ripe, they shall pick them for me 
on halves. I will gladly give them half.” 

“ An admirable plan,” said Professor Evarts, “if 
you can carry it out. But you must remember that 
‘boys will be boys,’ especially on Hillside Avenue, 
where there are so many of them.” 

True enough. Mrs. Evarts, long before the cherries 
were ripe, was shocked to find her trees alive with 
boys. 


“ Cherries Ripe.' 


271 


“ Why, boys,” she exclaimed, “ it will kill you to 
eat those green cherries ! 99 

But boys seem to have a wonderful power of sur- 
viving what ought to kill them, and live to grow up 
in spite of every one’s warnings and predictions. 
Mrs. Evarts, finding that persuasion and argument 
did no good, was obliged to mount guard over her 
trees and sit on her porch most of the time out of 
school hours, in order to retain a few cherries for her 
own use. 

Cousin Elizabeth was another sufferer, for she had 
three cherry-trees in her front yard close to the street, 
and there were no fences on Hillside Avenue, the 
houses being scattered along under the great trees, as 
in a park. Her place was subject to raids at all hours 
of the day, not only from the more untamed spirits 
among the neighbors’ boys, but also from hordes of 
wild young hoodlums, barefoot and ragged, who 
seemed, like Job’s war-horse, to “sniff the battle from 
afar,” and say “ Ha, ha,” as they rushed to the fray, 
appearing now and then in swarms from some un- 
known region beyond Brook Street. 

The walk and lawn were constantly littered with 
broken branches, torn leaves, and cherry-stones ; and 
life was such a warfare that no wonder poor Cousin 
Elizabeth sighed for the cherry season to be over. 
She not only suffered from the raids of the outside 
barbarians, but also from the dread of losing her own 
children by the colic. 

Konald, being older, minded his mother, and kept 
out of the trees, although it cost a struggle. But 
Jack, — poor little Jack, — he meant to do right, but 
the temptation sometimes proved too great for his 


272 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


young virtue. Often and often were his small knicker- 
bockers detected high up among the cherry leaves. 
Phyllis was too little to climb the trees, but Jack 
kindly dropped green cherries down into her out- 
stretched gown, that she might share this luxury. 
Both were unmindful of the dreadful warning which 
Amy was much amused to hear Ronald, with his own 
mouth evidently watering, shout to them, — 

“ If you eat so many of those green cherries, you 
will have the cholera garbus ! ” 

The moment the cherries would at all answer to 
gather, Cousin Elizabeth and Mrs. Evarts invited Amy, 
Kitty, Irene, and the other “ good ” children, who had 
obeyed them and let the trees alone, to a grand cherry- 
picking, one fine Saturday morning. 

Amy was full of pleasant anticipations at the break- 
fast table that morning. 

“We shall have such fun,” she said. “It is better 
than a picnic. I love to climb.” 

“ Do be careful, Amy,” said her mother, “ and not 
climb too high, or step on limbs too small for your 
weight. Remember how Cecilia Bradstreet fell out 
of Dr. Trimble’s cherry-tree and broke her arm.” 

Amy could not help laughing at this, for Miss Cecilia 
was now a pretty and elegant young society lady, and 
it took a great flight of imagination to fancy her up 
in Dr. Trimble’s cherry-tree. But the children of 
Hillside Avenue were still brought up on the tradi- 
tion of this accident, it being an unanswerable argu- 
ment on the mothers’ side. 

“ I will be careful, mamma,” said Amy. “ You need 
not feel anxious a bit. You know it is natural for 
me to climb.” 


Cherries Ripe: 


273 


So it was. It delighted Amy’s poetical fancy to be 
high up above the earth, swaying on the green boughs 
like the birds ; and she was at home in all the climbabla 
trees on her father’s place, especially one catalpa, 
whose low drooping branches made it a tree no child 
could resist. 

This Saturday morning, the cherry-trees on the 
places of Cousin Elizabeth and Mrs. Evarts were alive 
with the biggest, brightest-hued birds ever seen in 
cherry-trees : birds in gay little hats and red, pink, 
and blue ginghams, and birds in knickerbockers and 
shirt waists, were all over them ; and certainly the 
music of happy childish voices and laughter that rang 
out on the morning air was as sweet as bird songs. 

The lower boughs had been well rifled, but, high 
above, the upper branches glowed red with the tempt- 
ing fruit. This obliged the expert climbers to go to 
the very tip-top 'Of the trees, almost out of sight 
among the green leaves, where, clinging to the sway- 
ing limbs, they dropped the cherries down on the grass 
for the smaller children to pick up. 

“ Dixon,” called Amy from her look-out high up in 
the tree, “ you don’t pick up any for Cousin Elizabeth. 
You put them all in your own mouth.” 

“ Mamma does n’t want him to eat so many cherries,” 
said Claribel. “He had an awful stomach-ache last 
night. I shall go straight home and tell mamma of 
you, Dixon.” 

“ Put some in your hat to carry home, Dixon, to eat 
to-morrow,” said kind Cousin Elizabeth ; and Dixon 
thought best to comply, well aware that his little sister 
would faithfully report him at home, if he persisted 
in eating the cherries. 


18 


274 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


Old Nannie hovered around, in a fever of anxiety 
that drove Victor to climb much higher up in the tree 
than he otherwise would have thought of doing, to 
show his independence of Nannie’s rule. 

“ I know that child will fall and break his leg, 
or make himself sick eating so many cherries,” she 
groaned ; “ but he won’t stop for my telling him.” 

“ You can take this comfort, Nannie,” said Cousin 
Elizabeth : “ if eating cherries were really fatal, there 
would not be a child living on Hillside Avenue to-day.” 

Amy brought down one beautiful branch, all hang- 
ing with shining red cherries, and ran home to give it 
to her mother, who said, — 

“ That is too pretty to eat, Amy. I will put it in a 
vase for an ornament.” 

And an ornament it remained until the next day, 
when, all the other cherries being eaten, Amy finished 
up the pretty branch, too. 

Cousin Elizabeth and Mrs. Evarts carried their part 
of the spoil into their houses, and the children took 
theirs over under the big trees on the Strongs’ front 
lawn, where Amy had her croquet set. Here, sitting 
or lying on the green grass in the cool shade, they ate 
their cherries as they chatted away about their own 
affairs. Finally they fell to telling what they meant 
to be when they grew up. 

“I’m going to be a sailor,” said Ben Bruce, who 
had just been reading Dana’s “Two Years Before the 
Mast.” 

“ I ’m going to be his partner,” said Paul. 

“ What fun you will have ! ” said Amy. “ But mine 
is best of all. I am going to be an artist and a poet 
and an authoress, when* I grow up.” 


275 


“ Cherries Ripe” 

“ Is that all ? ” asked Ben. 

“ You need n’t laugh. I am/’ said Amy. 

“ Probably I shall be an actress ; but anyway I intend „ 
to be a very fine lady, and I shall be perfectly blase. 
Even if I care about anything, I don’t intend to show 
a bit of interest,” said Irene, who liked to astonish the 
other children sometimes by these advanced ideas. 

“ Pooh ! ” said Ronald, “ I don’t think that sounds 
like much fun. I mean to be a priest.” 

Ronald’s mind was of the imaginative cast, and he 
had been much struck with the impressive ritual and 
robes of the Roman Catholic Church. He had confided 
before to Amy this resolve to be a priest, adding, — 

“ That ’s the reason why I can’t marry you when I 
grow up, Amy. But you shall sing in my choir, and 
I will pay you five dollars a week more than I do 
any one else.” 

“ I ’m going to be a banker and get rich,” said 
Jack, lying on his stomach in the grass, kicking 
his heels in the air as he ate cherries out of his hat 
in a spendthrift fashion that did not promise much for 
his future career as a banker. 

" I shall be a newsboy, and sell papers on the 
the train, so I can ride on the cars all the time,” said 
Victor. 

“ I ’m going to be a dog-trainer,” said Elliot Carman. 

“ I ’m going to be a circus-rider,” said Rob. 

“ Whoa ! Get up there ! ” reining in an imaginary 
team of four bareback horses abreast 

“ I ’m going to be a school-teacher, so that I can 
whip the bad boys,” said Kitty. 

“ We won’t go to school to you,” said Paul. 

“ Of course you won’t. You will be off at sea then, 
won’t you ? ” 


276 Jolly Good Times To-Day. 

Dixon now spoke up in his wise and solemn 
fashion. 

“I am going to be a railroad engineer,” he an- 
nounced ; whereat all the children laughed, for Dixon 
was certainly the last boy on the avenue one would 
pick out for the practical career of an engineer. But 
Dixon had a railroad of his own in mind, which he 
calmly proceeded to explain, never minding the 
laughter, — 

“ I shall have both sides of my track set out all 
the way with shade trees, — three kinds of trees, ma- 
ples and elms and firs. ■ But around the stations I 
will have fruit-trees set out. I shall keep two officers 
at each station to guard these trees, and right by the 
cherry-tree there will be a jail.” 

“ Ho, ho ! ” shouted the boys, seeming to regard 
this as a thrust aimed at them. 

“ There will, now, so you must look out. I shall 
have at least fifty yard engines, to pull — ” 

“ Oh, I ’m tired of hearing about your old engines,” 
said Claribel, who had recently had her hair cut off, 
and felt that the most important thing. “ I think he 
ought to be a barber. It must be very nice to be a 
barber.” 

“ I tell you what we will do,” said Bob. “ Let ’s 
all go over in our back yard and play circus.” 

John Bobinson’s circus, which always winters in 
Cincinnati, had recently opened its summer season 
there; and Bob, as well as most of the other boys, 
had attended it, so all were ready and willing to play 
circus. 

“ Circus ” was a noisy play. Bob’s long roller- 
coaster first figured as a band-wagon in the opening 
procession, that brought out the whole strength of 


Cherries Ripe.' 


277 


the company, the band consisting of Willie McGrau’s 
drum and two harmonicons. The procession ended, 
Rob said, — 

“ Ladies and Gentlemen ! The most wonderful '' 
trained horse in the world will now ride around the 
ring in a Roman chariot, drawn by six Arabian horses 
abreast.” 

He tied Duke into the roller-coaster, — good- 
natured old Duke, who let the children do anything 
they pleased with him. The Arabian steeds were Rob, 
Ben, Paul, Ronald, Victor, and Jack, most prancing 
and spirited horses, hard for the charioteer, Elliot 
Carman, to keep abreast. Duke was drawn around 
and around the circle in the Clovers’ driveway by the 
stable, amid loud applause from the audience, until 
even his good-nature gave out; his howls drowned 
the band and he had to be loosed, when he fled be- 
hind the stable, evidently having had quite enough 
of circus. 

Then Rob said, — 

u Now I will be the lady in the yellow satin dress, 
Madame What-you-call-her, the famous bareback rider. 
This roller-coaster is my bareback horse, a regular 
racer. Keep your eyes open now, for you will see 
some tall riding. You pull the coaster, Paul.” 

Rob took a stick in his hand for a whip, and as- 
sumed a fixed, simpering smile, that set the boys in 
a roar, and made Kitty say, — 

“ Rob Clover ! You look too silly for anything.” 

“ Can’t help it,” said Rob. “ That’s the way the 
lady in the yellow satin dress looked. Let her go ! ” 

Rob lashed his whip, and stuck one leg out straight, 
and away started Paul at a round pace. 


278 


Jolly Good Times To-Day. 


“ Hold on ! Go slower ! ” cried Rob, but too late. 
Over he tumbled on his nose in the gravel. 

“ What made you go so fast, Paul ? ” asked Rob, 
in muffled tones from within the handkerchief with 
which he was sopping his bleeding nose. “ Have n’t 
you any sense ? ” 

“ You said the horse was a regular racer,” said 
Paul ; “ and a racer would n’t go poking along, it is n’t 
likely.” 

“ That’s so,” admitted Rob. “I tell you, it must 
take a lot of practice to learn to stand on one leg on 
horseback. I wish papa would buy a horse, so I 
could be practising now.” 

As Rob’s bleeding nose obliged him to go into the 
house, the circus came to an untimely end ; and the 
children found other sports to fill out “a whole 
Saturday.” 

In the afternoon, Amy, Kitty, Irene, and Laura 
undertook to play croquet under the trees on the 
Strongs’ lawn. The younger children on the street 
always liked to be where Amy was. Her mother 
sometimes said, — 

“ If there is n’t a child in sight, let Amy go out- 
doors, and they seem to spring up out of the ground. 
It is nothing uncommon to see thirteen children on 
our lawn at once.” 

Sometimes Amy found this train of small hangers- 
on a bother, when she, Irene, and Kitty had important 
schemes of their own to carry out ; but as she really 
loved these little friends, she was kind and patient 
with them, and always just, giving them their fair 
turn and share in all the sports. 

The knocking of the croquet-balls was the signal 


“ Cherries Ripe! 


279 


for all the smaller fry to rally around; and it was soon 
found impossible to play, with Dixon or Victor or Jack 
picking up a spare mallet and hitting whatever ball 
came handiest, and Claribel, Phyllis, and the little 
Goldschmidts and Paxtons scampering to and fro 
among the wickets. 

“ Here, Dixon, you must n’t knock my ball out of 
place,” said Kitty, making a vigorous descent on 
Dixon, and pulling him off of the croquet- ground. 
“ What a bother these children are ! They completely 
spoil our game.” 

“ Indeed they do,” said Laura. “We might as well 
give up the game if they won’t go away.” 

“ I think I can manage it so they will not trouble 
us,” said Amy. 

She took the four spare mallets and balls, and went 
farther back in the yard, followed by the troop of 
children. 

“ Now, children,” she said, “ these are your mallets 
and balls ; and you may take them and have a nice 
game of your own if you will not bother us any 
more. Take turns now, and play fair.” 

“We will, Amy,” said the little ones, delighted to 
have a game of their own. 

As the little boys thought the science of the game 
consisted in knocking the balls as hard and high as 
possible, they were kept busy enough, hunting the 
balls, which rolled fast and far, down the hill into the 
tall grass, or into the mazes of the shrubbery, and 
the main croquet game progressed finely, no longer 
interrupted. 

By-and-by, not hearing the knocking of balls, Amy 
looked up from her own game, and saw that the 


280 


Jolly Good Times To-Day . 


children were all around Jack, who seemed to be 
doing something that amused the children greatly. 
She ran down to see what they were doing. 

“ Jack ’s found a hop-toad, Amy,” said Phyllis, “and 
he ’s making it hop.” 

“ He looks so funny when he hops,” said Claribel. 

Jack had a long switch, and was urging on the toad. 

“ Jack, that ’s naughty,” said Amy. “ You should n’t 
hurt the poor thing.” 

“ I don’t hurt him any, Amy,” said Jack, in his 
innocent-sounding voice. “ I ’in only tickling his 
back to make him hop.” 

“ It frightens him, and he does n’t like it,” said 
Amy. “ Now don’t do it any more, that ’s a good boy, 
Jack.” 

“No, I won’t, Amy,” said Jack, who was very kind- 
hearted and generous, dropping his stick. 

Here Professor Strong was seen coming along the 
street. As he drew near, he held up a letter with a 
significant smile at Amy. 

“ Oh, I wonder what it can be,” said Amy, « Papa 
looks so smiling.” 

She ran to meet him, and read the mysterious letter. 
Soon she came running backj all radiant with happi- 
ness and excitement, to tell her friends the great 
news. 

“ Oh, girls,” she cried, “ is n’t it perfectly splendid ? 
Philip has taken the island, — really ! and he and 
Gladys are going down the first of June, and we are 
going early in July ; and we shall stay weeks, I don’t 
know how long! And I shall see Sydney and Faith, 
and my dear little nieces ; and perhaps we shall go to 
Hackmatack, where papa lived when he was a boy, 


“ Cherries Ei'pe ': 


281 


and had such fun. I always wanted to go there so 
much. And I ’m going to have a new trunk of my 
own. Mamma says Pin getting so big she can’t get 
all my things into her trunk any more. Philip says 
Gladys is going to take her violin down, and he will 
take his guitar. Think of all the music we shall 
have. Oh, I am so happy I don’t know what to do ! ” 

After dinner, in the, pleasant dusk of the warm 
evening, after seeing the chickens safely to bed, Amy, 
Kitty, and Irene, their arms laced around each other, 
walked up and down the pavement, talking over their 
summer plans, — Claribel and the little Goldschmidts 
tagging along behind, in humble imitation of the 
u big girls.” 

Irene was to have a long trip during the vacation 
with her father on his steamer. Kitty and Rob were 
going, as usual in summer, to their grandmother’s 
farm in the country, about eighty miles from Cin- 
cinnati, where they always had delightful times. 
Laura was going up to the Michigan Lakes. After 
talking these plans over, Irene said, — 

“ Of course we shall have lovely times, Kitty ; but I 
think Amy’s will be best of all, it will be so romantic 
to be on an island.” 

“ I think so, too,” said Kitty. 

“ Yes,” said Amy ; “ I can’t help thinking so my- 
self. Oh, I do believe I am the happiest girl in the 
world ! ” 


THE END. 



JOLLY GOOD TIMES; 



CHILD LIFE ON A FARM. 

By P. THORNE- Price $1.25. 


ROBERTS BROTHERS, Publishers, 


Jolly Good Times at Hackmatack 



“ There,” said Miss Patty, “ that ’s a surtout as is a surtout.” 

Page 259. 

By MARY P. W. SMITH, 

\utftor of “ Jolly Good Times : or. Child-Life on a Farm,” “ Jolly Good Times a, 
School,” « Their Canoe Trip,” “ The Browns.” With illustrations. i6mo. 'loth 
Price, £1.25. 

ROBERTS BROTHERS, Publishers, Boston 


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